Finite Summer
by Talye Kendrin
Summary: For Tor LaVaile, it is to be a summer of firsts, friends, and maturing as she just tries to stay alive and discover her own identity. Pre-KH, AU. DEAD FIC
1. Goodbye Sam, Hello Strangers

"And so, to balance the equation, you have to put a two in front of Chlorine, and…"

I sighed boredly, doodling in the margin of the otherwise blank sheet of looseleaf in front of me. Sure, I was _supposed_ to be writing notes on balancing equations like my Chemistry teacher was droning on about at the front of the class in that impeccable monotone of hers, but I already understood how to do it, so I gave in to my urge to simply tune her out. This class was so boring, it actually, physically _hurt_. No, wait. That's probably just my butt getting pins and needles from me sitting on it for hours in the extremely uncomfortable school desks.

As I was no longer listening to the Chemistry teacher (blech), my mind quickly wandered, and sadness overwhelmed me. Today was the last day of school. Now, normally, this would be a cause for extreme partying, but today was different—my best and only friend (well, aside from my brother, but he doesn't really count) was leaving the province today, after school. This was the last day I had with my best friend Sam.

Now, how could I possibly describe Sam? Hmm…oh, I've got it: STRANGE, with a capital 'S'…and capital every other letter, for that matter. She wears mismatched socks, is constantly "borrowing" one of my shoes and "lending" me one of hers. She puts depressing songs about death and breaking up and peppy, upbeat songs about dancing on the same CD as rap songs with tons of swears and talk of drugs and country gospel songs. 'Man, she is one messed-up chick', is what you might be thinking about now. Well, that's only the tip of the iceberg—she makes food using the strangest combinations of food—peanut butter, lettuce, and anchovies, for example—and always claims it tastes good…and actually eats it. And in spite of all her strangeness—or perhaps it was because of it—I loved her to death.

Too bad she's leaving today.

I glanced at Sam as she sat in front of me, her curly blonde hair pulled back in a low ponytail, her pen sprinting along the paper as she copied down the notes from the board—not that she needed it; she had fairly good grades in this class, and she understood balancing the equations just fine, so she'd probably just hand the finished notes off to her "favorite slacker of the day"… don't ask.

At last, the bell rang, cutting off the teacher and sending all the teens in the Grade 10 Chemistry class scrambling go gather their books and rush off to lunch. I managed to get out of the room right behind Sam, and I grabbed her arm with my free hand, causing her to look back at me with a _very_ strange expression. I fought the laughter that bubbled in my throat—man, but it was _hard!_ But I guess that by now, I _should've_ gotten used to the overall utter strangeness that made up my best friend, but I still found it funny after two years of the insane spontaneity of Sam. I overlooked her pout as a chuckle escaped my lips.

"What?" Sam huffed, sounding slightly offended. I rushed to save face in her opinion. I didn't want anything stupid on my part to wreck my final day with her.

"Whaddya say we hit Tastee's down the street to commemorate the last day of school? My treat," I added hurriedly. As soon as I saw her Cheshire cat grin, I knew my allowance for that week had just gone down the drain.

"Sounds like a plan, Tor," she said, still grinning. "Gonna bring your bro along? We wouldn't want poor Demmy to throw a fit 'cuz he wasn't invited along for celebratory ice cream, now, would we?" she winked as we reached her locker and she pulled it open, throwing her books haphazardly in her still-messy locker.

Throwing my books in my own locker, three lockers down, I quickly shut and locked it and bustled off to the cafeteria to retrieve my brother before he spent his money on unnecessary cafeteria food. I quickly spotted him in a spot in line, and rushed over to him.

"Demyx!" I exclaimed, grabbing my dirty blonde-haired brother by the wrist as I reached him. "Tastee's. Now."

No further words were needed, for Tastee's was one of Demyx's favorite not-so-well-known restaurants in town. Honestly, Strathmore wasn't one of the biggest towns there was—the population didn't even hit the quadruple digits—but there was still plenty of places to grab a bite to eat for a town of its size, and Tastee's was Demyx's—as well as Sam's and my—personal favorite. I'll admit, they really knew what they were doing there.

Demyx and I rejoined Sam at her locker and rushed down to the restaurant, chatting about summer plans—mostly Demyx's, since neither Sam nor I wanted to talk of the impending doom that loomed over our heads, which was soon to strike a fatal blow to both our friendship _and_ our summer plans for fun. Thankfully, Demyx's bubbly, talkative nature made up for our semi-silence until we reached the restaurant.

My suspicions were aptly justified—Sam ordered a Denver, a strawberry cheesecake sundae, a chocolate milkshake, _and_ a medium fries. I sighed and decided to suck it up and pay for that, my own chicken burger and shake, and Demyx's grilled cheese sandwich, Skor blizzard, 7Up, and grilled chicken Caesar wrap to munch on on the way home from school.

_'My poor allowance…'_ I silently mourned the loss of my dear, hard earned cash. I'll have you know I put several hours of pouting, whining, and sucking up into getting that big of an allowance for both myself and Demyx every week!

"Yo, princess, if you don't quit moping about spending money on your brother and best friend, I'm gonna steal your shake," Sam said offhandedly, knowing how sensitive I was about people stealing my drink. I quickly grabbed it in a protective manner, glaring at her with an insane look on my face. My brother laughed as he sipped his 7Up, causing me to growl at him. I was satisfied when the 7Up came out his nose from laughing too hard. That'll teach him to laugh at his little sister. Bwahaha, and all that jazz. I'm too lazy to be evil.

The rest of the day passed much too quickly. Much to my amazement, Sam, for once, sat out on the bleachers with me in Gym class, just so we could talk. Once again, we managed to skirt around the subject of her leaving, but I knew we'd have to confront it at the end of the school day. Math and Futures In Business (a.k.a. The Most Pointless Class In the History Of the Earth) passed without anything interesting happening, as only our Chemistry teacher was stupid and cruel enough to give us notes on the last day of school.

In case you haven't noticed, I really hate my Chemistry teacher.

Anyways, the end of the day—the time I'd been dreading ever since Sam told me she'd be leaving then—finally rolled around. Now, I was happy and sad at the same time—sad for obvious reasons, but happy for Sam because she'd get to make a fresh start in a bigger school where I was sure she'd get more than one friend (or two, if you count Demyx), and happy because the final bell that sounded also signalled summer vacation, which symbolized sleeping in, pool time with Demyx, and not having to worry about Demyx bringing home bruises from a beating by the bully I had yet to catch in the act. However, though I was both happy and sad now, the sad indefinitely outweighed the happy.

As Sam emptied her locker into her bookbag and a large duffel bag, I put my books in my bookbag (I'd already cleaned out my locker two days ago), pulling out a bundle of denim tied with a pretty purple satin ribbon—the kind Sam liked to tie her hair back with. Biting my lip, I hesitantly handed Sam the bundle, the people whose lockers stood between ours being gone already.

"Um…here. Hope you like it," I said, retracting my hand and nervously scratching the back of my head as she took it from me. I watched out of the corner of my eye as she undid the ribbon, pocketing it, and shook out the bundle, which was really just a pair of jeans.

Her eyes visibly widened. She looked slack-jawed. I gave a tiny grin._ 'Mission accomplished.'_ The jeans had vines crawling up the sides of the legs with roses growing on them, had a picture of a guitarist with shadowy features on the back of the right pant leg with a caption that said "Rock Out!" on it, and a pile of cookies on the front of the left leg with a caption that said "A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand".

I almost fell over from the intense glomp I suddenly received. I honestly thought my ears were going to bleed from the quiet, yet surprisingly high-pitched, squeal that Sam then emitted from right next to my ear.

"All right already!" I laughed quietly. "You're welcome. Now gimme your foot for a moment." I whipped out a white fabric marker and, on the foot she stuck out which she was still wearing my "borrowed" shoe on, I wrote my signature on the black canvas shoe with white details.

"Hey… You got a black one of those, Tor?" I heard her ask. I was surprised, but then understood what she was thinking. I dropped the white fabric marker back in my bag, drawing out my black one and handing it to her as she crouched over my shoe I had of hers—which was the exact opposite coloring of my original one—and signed her name on _my_ "borrowed" shoe of hers. As she stood and gave me back my marker, she grabbed me in another hug before I could object.

"I'm not gonna say goodbye, 'cuz I'm definitely gonna come back here next summer to steal your pool," Sam said in a watery voice. I pouted while she couldn't see my face. Dangit, she was gonna make _me_ cry if she kept this up!

"…You'd better go, Sam. Don't wanna miss your plane…" I smiled. "Besides, I'll e-mail you. There are ways for us to stay in touch." I gave her one last squeeze and pulled away, slinging the straps of my bookbag over my shoulders.

Sam gave me a watery smile as she wiped her eyes and grabbed both her bags, heading for the doors. "I'll see you later, Tor," she called back over her shoulder.

I grinned back, trying to look happy and confident, but not really sure how well it worked. "Later," I said, waving at her before she completely left the building. _'Aw, man. Now I have to go find Demyx so he can cheer me up before I end up crying after all.'_

As I wandered towards where Demyx's locker was situated, where I knew he would be waiting for me, I began hearing some sounds, even though by that time, the school could have easily passed as a ghost town. I urged my feet to move faster, aware of what it very well might be.

Boy, do I hate being right.

As I turned the corner to where Demyx's locker was, a chill went down my spine as I saw some guy with blood red hair that I recognized as being in Grade 11, the same as Demyx, beating my brother up, as he wasn't even trying to fight back. My gaze switched over to a blonde kid I realized was in my grade—he wasn't watching the one-sided fight, but he wasn't trying to stop it, either, which _really_ ticked me off. But as I approached the three to stop the beating my brother in_ no way_ could've deserved, a boy with somewhat messy black hair and bangs that fell over one of his eyes came from around another corner that was much closer to the trio. We made eye contact for a moment, and he must've seen the pure rage in my face as I continued towards my brother's bully.

"I think it would be in your best interest to quit beating on him," the black-haired boy said, surprising me, and causing the redhead to turn in the direction of the newcomer onto the scene.

The redhead simply snorted as he saw who it was. I was now standing not a foot away from him, waiting, albeit impatiently, for him to stop running his mouth, as he was now speaking.

"Yeah, and what're _you_ gonna do about it, _Zexion?_ Hit me with a book? Hah!"

The black-haired boy, whom I now knew to be Zexion, stole another glance at me and stated, "_I'm_ not going to do anything; I just thought it fair to give you a warning, since _she _looks _pissed_."

_Finally_, the jerk turned back to face me with a look of surprise—neither he nor the blonde kid had seen me approaching, as they'd been looking at Zexion, and Demyx had been a tad busy getting his tail kicked. Forcing a smile that was anything but happy, I promptly delivered a punch to his stomach, then smashed his head into my knee when he doubled over, causing him to fall to the ground, clutching both places I'd injured. I turned a venomous glare at the blonde kid who'd done nothing, and then turned to my stunned brother, who was leaning against the lockers, his bag a few feet away from him. I hastily grabbed it for him, then slung his left arm over my shoulder.

"Can you walk okay?" I inquired, not usually one to fuss over people, but I was used to doing so with Demyx—as our mother had left us when I was 10 and Demyx was 11, I was, in a way, his 'replacement mother'.

Demyx gave me one of his brilliant smiles I loved, and I almost cried for the second time in one day. How could anyone beat up such a lovely boy as him?

"I'm fine, Tor. I got a bit of a limp, I think, but I'm fine. Don't worry about it, really," he insisted, but I was stubborn, and kept his arm over my shoulder anyways, carrying his surprisingly light bookbag by means of a strap slung over one arm, and my hand on the other arm supporting Demyx as we headed towards the main doors exiting the school. A quick glance behind proved true the fact that Zexion had already disappeared off to Lord-knows-where, and the blonde kid that'd been with the insufferable bully was helping said bully off the ground. I urged Demyx on a little faster as we turned a corner, but I was annoyed to still be able to hear their conversation as we approached the exit.

"Man! She's a fiery devil, isn't she, Rox? She oughta join our gang!"

The blonde sighed. "It's not _even_ a gang, numbskull. We're the only two people in it!"

I swear I could almost _hear_ that idiot's grin as he replied, "That's 'cuz no one else was cool enough to be in it. But, _man!_ Did you _see_ her, Rox? All those piercings, and—!"

I don't think I'd ever been happier to leave that school. Pausing on the steps to retrieve Demyx's grilled chicken Caesar wrap from his bookbag, I handed it to him to munch on as I helped him home. The summer I had both been eagerly awaiting and dreading had now officially begun.

--

A/N: Yes, this is a new story by me. I've already got part of the second chapter done, and I've written down where I want this story to go and how I want it to end, so there is a much better chance of me actually finishing it than ones I've started before. :) Hope you enjoyed this first chapter! The review button is just sitting there... in purple... you know you want to click it... ;)


	2. Oh, So That's Who That Was!

I wasn't surprised when me and Demyx got home find dad's car gone and a note on the table saying he was going on a date with the mystery woman he'd been dating steadily for the past four months after he was done his work at the hospital for the day. I was still kinda miffed that he wasn't even introducing her to us—after all, we _were_ his kids, and I believe that entitled us to know whom our dad was dating. Sadly, our dear father did not seem to see things my way, and as Demyx was fine with letting our dad keep it a secret, I didn't have anything other than burning curiosity fuelling my desire to know just who this mystery woman was.

As Demyx pulled free of my support and limped over to the living room to flop on the couch his guitar was propped up against haphazardly, I took the stairs two at a time to toss our bookbags in our respective rooms, which were right next to each other on the left side of the hall, before going into the bathroom across the way to relieve myself.

When I got back downstairs, Demyx was strumming his guitar absent-mindedly and munching a cookie from the tin of cookies I'd baked yesterday and set on the coffee table in front of the couch. I must've looked sad, because when he looked up, half a cookie hanging from his mouth, he quickly set his guitar aside and held his arms out to me, silently offering me a hug like he always did when he thought we should talk. Moving across the living room to sit next to him, I hugged him fiercely, all the tears I'd kept from spilling over when Sam left and when I saw my brother hurt now cascading down my face in tiny rivers, soaking the shoulder of Demyx's shirt as I heard him swallow the last of his cookie. As I sniffled, he stroked my back, and I quieted. Demyx always knew how to make me feel better. It should be so, as we'd spent over six years now with no mother to comfort us, and our dad working most of the time, and frequently dating women since she'd left—likely shopping for another woman suitable to be our mother, but subsequently leaving us with no one but ourselves to keep us company, causing us to turn to each other for company and consolation when we felt sad or angry about anything. Demyx and I were very close, and I would never trade this closeness for anything in the entire world. Demyx _was_ the world, to me.

We were silent for a long moment, just sitting there in each other's embrace, before Demyx spoke.

"This isn't about Axel, is it?" he asked.

I was extremely confused. "Who?" I had honestly never heard that name before that I could recall, so why would Demyx assume I was crying over them?

"The redhead that beat me up," he stated bluntly.

"Oh. Him." And the light goes on. Loathing filled me towards the redhead, and I stopped crying. "Indirectly."

I heard Demyx sigh in what seemed like exasperation. "Elaborate, please…?"

I frowned. "I wasn't exactly crying because of _him_, I was crying because you got hurt, and I wasn't there to stop him from hurting you…" I grimaced.

I felt Demyx give me a gentle squeeze. "But wasn't it Sam's last day today?"

I nodded into his shoulder.

"Then weren't you saying goodbye to her?"

"It was more of a 'see you later'," I corrected him.

He smiled into my hair. "Either way, I'd say that's a good enough excuse not to be there. If you'd skipped out on saying goodbye to Sam, you'd probably be twice as sad as you are now," he pointed out.

I smiled and buried my face in his shoulder. How he always managed to make me feel better was one of my favorite things about my brother. "Have you ever thought of being a therapist, Dem?" I said, using his nickname.

"Nope. That job seems too impersonal… I don't think therapists are supposed to give hugs," he mused aloud.

I smiled and curled my legs beneath me on the couch as I thought. I couldn't have asked for a better brother than I had in Demyx—he was thoughtful, caring, loveable, talented, and funny, and he was always willing to share anything with me, and I was more than happy to return the favor. Demyx was possibly the most unselfish boy I had met in my entire life. If I ever got a boyfriend, I think I'd want him to be like Demyx.

After a while of just sitting and talking, Demyx went back to his guitar, starting to work on a song he was trying to finish, experimenting with chords and strumming patterns. I loved to listen to Demyx play—he had a certain knack for song-writing which I seemed to lack, despite my own musical talent I'd discovered when our mother got me started on piano lessons at age five. I quit the lessons at eleven, a year after she left, but kept learning from myself and Demyx. I had my level five piano, but Demyx had his level seven. He just never ceased to amaze me; I could not for the _life_ of me figure out why that Axel jerk would've wanted to beat him up, or why that blonde twerp would just look the other way while he did so. He didn't _seem_ like a heartless jerk, from what I'd seen of him during class. He seemed nice enough to the shy blonde girl he sometimes talked to—Naminé, I believe her name was—but why would he stand by while his friend beat up my brother?!

Mussing my brother's curious hairstyle—something of a cross between a mullet and a Mohawk—I stood to go to the kitchen and start working on supper, as it was 4:40pm, and I was going to make Demyx's favorite—lasagna with Caesar salad and garlic toast, with chocolate parfaits for dessert—to distract myself from thinking about Sam and how much I was going to miss her, which was inevitably what I would have thought of next after the two jerks in the hallway.

At 6:00pm, I served our supper—knowing dad would be eating out with his girlfriend, like he usually did when they went out on a date—while the parfaits chilled in the fridge. I was just setting down the plates and cutlery at mine and Demyx's places at the table when said blonde came into the kitchen, an expression of awe and gratitude on his face as he enveloped me in a giant bear hug. It kind of hurt, actually.

"THANK YOU, TOR!" he exclaimed loudly right next to my ear. What, is it 'Deafen Tor Day' already? "You know how much I love you, right? I will willingly perform menial tasks for you all week if you have chocolate parfaits in the fridge," he said.

Ooh. I could definitely live with that. I smirked.

"Welcome to servitude, Dem. Your first task is to… _fill the water pitcher_," I said in a maniacal voice, handing him aforementioned pitcher.

Demyx took it, bowing deeply at the waist to me, saying, "Yes, O Master Tor," with a straight face. I couldn't help it—I doubled over laughing.

"And don't forget the cups, thou wretch," I said, trying to stifle my laughter as I sat down at the table. When Demyx placed our cups and the now-full water pitcher on the table, I stated, "Dig in 'til you stick out," the phrase we always said before we ate. Don't ask why—it's just kind of a "ritual" we've practiced since before I can remember. As soon as I uttered it, both Demyx and I picked up our plates and scooped food onto them as we saw fit.

As we ate in relative silence, a thought struck me. Well, not literally. Figuratively speaking. A thought couldn't physically smack me in the head or anything, and, well… you get the point. Anyways… carrying on now.

"Is Axel friends with Zexion, by any chance?"

I was kind of miffed when Demyx spewed the sip of water he had in his mouth all over the table. Thankfully, it didn't reach me, but I was somewhat hurt, as he was now laughing hysterically, and I felt as though he was laughing at me because I said something stupid. My face reddening a bit, I pouted, looking away from my brother as I picked at my Caesar salad.

"Aww, don't be like that, Tor," Demyx complained, and I looked up at him, still pouting. He grinned in a reassuring manner. Okay, so maybe he wasn't laughing at me, after all. What he said next just proved that. "It's just that it's funny you said that, because you don't know how Zexion acts. He hardly talks to _anyone_, except for the teachers… and sometimes that Grade 12 guy, Marluxia. But I wouldn't say he really has any friends besides that guy… and even then, I'm not sure they hang out enough to qualify as being '_friends_', really. He's a loner, pretty much. Is this about how he warned Axel about you looking pissed?" he inquired.

"Obviously." I was now _thoroughly_ confused. Judging by Demyx's description of the boy, it would've been more in his character to just walk on past the scene in the hallway without saying a word.

Demyx 'hmm'ed for a moment, stroking his chin, before snapping his fingers suddenly. "There must be something in it for him."

Okay, now I was _beyond_ confused—I was _confuzzled_. "Wha?" I stated, ever so intelligently.

Demyx shrugged. "Well, I've never known him to just do anything from the goodness of his heart—it usually has to benefit him in some way or form for him to feel he should do it."

I raised an eyebrow, taking in all this new information on the black-haired kid that was otherwise a complete stranger to me. I would probably try to figure out his reasoning some other time when I had absolutely nothing better to do, but for the moment, I returned to eating the delicious Caesar salad and garlic toast still sitting on my plate, calling out to me to eat them with their delicious tastiness and delectable aroma.

I was full enough after finishing my supper, so I served Demyx his parfait, but decided to leave mine until tomorrow. What I _really_ felt like doing was getting a shower. However, as I was the only woman in the house, my dad held me responsible for the vast majority of the chores (he's just a tad chauvinistic), so I obligingly did the supper dishes, as well as the ones left over from breakfast that morning, before heading upstairs to get my much-desired shower, leaving the clean dishes on the dish rack to dry, as Demyx would put them away as soon as they were so. That was pretty much his only chore, aside from cleaning his room. I kind of envied him that.

After I was done with my luscious, twenty-minute shower, I dried off and hopped in my PJs (what can I say? Even if it was only 7:00, I wasn't planning on going out), now squeaky clean and smelling of lavender from my favorite body wash. Okay, this might be totally random, but I just gotta say it—I love loofahs.

I went to my room, then, turning on my computer and my CD player at the same time, singing along with the Taylor Swift CD that was in it at the moment—she was the only country singer I truly enjoyed listening to.

The first thing I did when I got on the computer was sign into MSN messenger, but, to my dismay, Sam was not signed in. However, there were two new people who'd added me as a contact. I raised an eyebrow. I didn't recognize either of the e-mail addresses. But, as was fairly common, in my case, I allowed them to see when I was online anyway, curious as to who it was that added me. _'Probably some obsessed stalker psychopath.'_ I grinned. Yeah, right.

A conversation window popped up just as I finished thinking that, containing two other people—one of the display pictures was that of a sea salt ice cream with a heart on it, and the other one…was of none other than Axel, a.k.a. the winner of the 'Tor's Least Favorite Person of the Year' trophy. My eye twitched. It had a habit of doing that when I was extremely agitated or annoyed.

**Hot Pants B) says:  
**_hey chica_

Hmph. On second thought, I could have some fun with this. Smirking, I began typing a reply.

**-Manic Angelic- says:  
**…I was right.

**Hot Pants B) says:  
**_about wut?_

**Roxas XIII says:  
**o.o?

**-Manic Angelic- says:  
**I was right in that it is some obsessed stalker psychopath. Oh, and the least you could do is _not_ use chatspeak, if you're that intent on stalking me. I mean, really. You're a disgrace to stalkers everywhere when you do that.

**Hot Pants B) says:  
**…

**Roxas XIII says:  
**Wow. She got you good, man

**Hot Pants B) says:  
**_shut up, ROXY_

I grinned. _'Mission accomplished.'_ I sat back to watch the idiotic insults ensue, but was surprised at the next message that appeared.

**Hot Pants B) says:  
**_hey, ur name's Tor, rite?_

Oh, crap. He really is a stalker.

**-Manic Angelic- says:  
**…And you're sure you're not stalking me?

**Hot Pants B) says:  
**_very. whats ur relationship w/ that wimp demyx?_

I felt my blood begin to boil as he insulted my brother. I quickly hit caps lock before typing my reply to let him know as much.

**-Manic Angelic- says:  
**THAT "WIMP" IS MY BROTHER, YOU MORON!!

That having been said, I quickly shut the conversation, blocked both addresses, and signed out of messenger. There was no one I wanted to talk to signed in, anyways. I quickly opened an internet browser and checked my Facebook, trying to calm myself down. I had one message, and I was ecstatic to find it was from Sam. I hastily clicked on it. Basically, it said that she missed me already, but she was wearing the jeans I gave her while typing the message, and according to her, they fit _very_ fine. She'd already met one of her neighbours—apparently, he was a hot guy going into Grade 12 this upcoming school year, and her parents had invited him and his family over to their place for supper. I decided that would be why she wasn't on—when her family ate supper all together, they ate at around 7:00pm. I looked at the clock on my computer—7:15. I sighed. Deciding I wasn't going to get anything done by moping about Sam being gone and apparently doing fine in her new, larger hometown with a hot neighbour, I shut the computer off once again. I would read for a while before going to sleep.

Thankfully, despite my sadness over Sam not missing or needing me as much as I missed and needed her, I soon got absorbed in my copy of _Twilight_, and it was 11:30pm before I finally set it down and curled up under my covers, eager for a much-needed rest after a _very_ long last day of school.

--

A/N: Okay, so this was a bit of a "fluff" chapter--just showing you basically what a day is like in Tor and Demyx's lives, a little of their history, and whatnot. I promise there will be more happening in the next chapter. I already have it part way done. :) Once again, I would like to ask any and all readers to review, lovelies! It would be most appreciated! :)


	3. Group Hug Therapy to the Rescue!

Alright, listen up, peoples: I didn't do this for the past two chapters, and this is the one and only time that I will be doing it, so here it is:

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Kingdom Hearts, Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories, or Kingdom Hearts II, or any of the characters or plots affiliated with it, Squaresoft, or Disney. Nuh-uh. The extent of my ownership is a copy of KH1 and KH2 (which was a lovely Christmas gift) and an Axel plushie. ): That is all.

Please continue on and enjoy the story, if you will. :)

--

At 10:00am, I blinked my eyes open, staring at my clock until it turned 10:01. Now, why exactly did I wake up again?

"Oh, c'mon! She's gotta be up by _now_," said a vaguely familiar voice from what sounded like downstairs. Well, that answered my question, but also spawned another one: Who was that? My brain didn't seem to be working just yet. I dragged myself over on the bed, intending to swing my legs over and sit up, but my legs weren't listening to me. Thus, I rolled off the bed and onto the floor with a loud _thud!_

"Ugh…what a way to start summer holidays," I groaned, my face planted in the floor. Good thing the carpet cushioned the blow. However, this also meant I now had a minor case of carpet burn on my face, which is a most unpleasant sensation to wake up to in the morning. I groaned again and untangled myself from the sheets that I'd pulled onto the floor with me. I was just pushing myself up into a sitting position leaning up against the side of my bed when more than one set of footsteps came thundering up the stairs, thoroughly confusing me until my door swung open, revealing the two people in the world that I wanted to see the _least_ right now.

Axel was grinning broadly. "Finally! What were you doing sleeping? It's a beautiful day out to wreak havoc on the unsuspecting townsfolk!"

I growled. This guy really knew how to push my buttons, even if he wasn't doing it intentionally. I couldn't _stand_ cheerful people right after waking up.

"Well, _obviously_ I was doing what every _normal_ person does on the first day of summer break, until _you _and your _loud mouth_ barged into MY HOUSE!" I ended in a shout. "Now, if you'll _kindly_ step away from my room," I ground out in a forced calm voice, "I have to change into _proper_ clothes before I beat the snot out of you for the _second_ time in the past two days."

I saw him open his mouth to make a witty comeback, but thankfully, the blonde standing next to him grabbed the collar of his shirt and dragged him towards the stairs. "Quit peeping on girls in their PJs, you perv," he said.

I blinked. Okay, I admit my brain worked extremely slow in the morning; it wasn't until that moment that I realized I had only worn my oversized nightshirt to bed, and not my flannel polka-dotted PJ pants. My face burned a bright, flaming red, and I buried my face in my bare, knobby knees, which were bare for the world to see—my worst feature. However, after a few seconds of wallowing in the embarrassed misery that my two least favorite people in the world had seen my horrid knees, I realized my door was still open. I quickly fixed that, immensely glad for the revolutionary invention of locks.

As I sat down at the vanity my dad had bought me a couple years ago as a sneaky way of saying he wished I would be more girly, I fixed on my nose piercing, eyebrow piercing, and snakebites that I'd removed before my shower yesterday. Eyeing the two pairs of studs side-by-side at the bottom of each ear and the matching pair of studs going through the cartilage at the top, I exchanged the pair of studs going through my earlobes for a pair of black-and-white polka-dotted hoop earrings. I quickly yanked a brush through my layered brown hair I had worked hard to change from its previously boring state—the tips of my longest layer were white-blonde, the tips of the middle layer were blood red, and the tips of the shortest layer were black. The wispy bangs that swept across the left side of my face were streaked with navy blue, and there was a thick, light blue streak on the top layer of hair on the left side of my head. I quickly lined my boring gray eyes with navy blue eyeliner and put on mascara before changing into tight, dark-washed jeans and an oversized Domo-kun sweatshirt—my usual style of outfit. I wasn't very particular about fashion, thus I didn't wear tight or fitted t-shirts, even though Sam had always told me I had a fair enough figure for it. I still didn't care.

By the time I got downstairs, all hell had broken loose.

Apparently, Axel and his sidekick had raided the fridge, and were now lounging on the couch and the floor, respectively, eating _both_ the parfaits I had saved for my dad and myself. I spotted Demyx huddled in the corner of the room furthest from the two terrors, protectively clutching his guitar as he eyed the pair apprehensively. The TV was on, showing a Dr. Phil re-run, and the infuriating redhead had his _dirty shoes_ propped up on the coffee table, as he was using one of the cookies from the tin on the table his _dirty shoes _were on as a "spoon" to eat _my_ parfait with. The throw pillows that used to be neatly propped on the couch were now strewn all over the living room floor—one of them was even in the kitchen now.

Okay, there is only so much that I can take this soon after waking up, and this crossed the line _ages_ ago. I quickly left the room, beckoning for Demyx to follow me.

As soon as we were in the porch area, far out of earshot of the other two, I wheeled on Demyx, speaking in a low, dangerous tone.

"Did you let those two idiots in the house?" I demanded. I felt bad when I saw Demyx cringe at my blunt question accompanied by my tone of voice, but kept a stern expression on my face. I was not about to back down until I got an answer.

"Well…not _exactly_," he said slowly.

I frowned and crossed my arms over my chest, waiting for a full explanation.

"Well…you see," Demyx started, scratching the back of his neck out of a nervous habit none too different from mine, "I kinda wasn't awake before the doorbell rang, so I kinda opened the door before checking who it was by mistake, and they just shoved their way past me into the house. They were here for about twelve minutes before you fell out of bed."

Ah, yes. Of course Demyx would know that the deafening thump had been me falling out of bed, as it seemed to be an every-other-day sort of happening for me. Sadly, I woke up to minor carpet burn on my face fairly often—the price I had to pay for not waking up fully in the morning. I should probably look into getting a bigger bed, methinks.

Slouching forward a bit, I scowled heartily. I did _not_ want those two in my house, even though a tiny little voice in the very back of my mind was voicing her vast appreciation of the fact that two handsome boys had actually wanted to come over and see _me_… I squashed her immediately, sighing in exasperation and motioning for Demyx to follow me as I trekked back to the living room, where the Two Stooges had switched to watching MTV. Demyx sat down near the corner his guitar was in once again, and I folded sinuously into a cross-legged position seated in the middle of the floor, facing towards Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee.

"Why did you come here?" I said, being as blunt as I could to make it _clear_ to them that they were _not_ welcome here. However, this just caused Axel to give a…slightly _feral_-looking grin. I raised an eyebrow, but made no comment on it.

"First off, I think Rox and I should formally introduce ourselves." He stood and bowed, which was kind of comical coming from a person I understood to be a pompous jerk. I snorted, but he didn't seem to take notice.

"I'm Axel Waddell, soon-to-be Grade 12 student, pyro," his grin widened, "and the reason I'm here is because I'm the leader of the A.R.T. gang."

I wasn't exactly impressed, but I _was_ a bit confused. It seems like I'm spending more and more of my time being confused lately, and it's kinda starting to tick me off… but anyways.

"A.R.T.? Do you mean 'art'?" I asked.

Umm…okay, Axel's grin was starting to look _maniacal_ by this point.

"Nope! It stands for 'Axel-Roxas-Tor'!"

I snorted. Well, at least now I knew the blonde's name. Axel seemed to be very persistent with the fact that he wanted me to hang out with them, but I wasn't about to give in to his wishes. If I was going to do this, I was doing it on _my_ terms. "Well, it's going to stay A.R., unless you're willing to make it D.A.R.T."

Axel cocked his head to the side, a bewildered look on his face. "Huh?" he said, obviously not catching my drift. Oh, well—guess I'd just have to be blunt again.

"I'm not joining unless Demyx does."

That started the redhead spluttering in protest. "But—but then we might as well call it T.A.R.D.—'tard! Like a retard!" he scowled.

I smiled and shrugged. "I think it suits you."

I could hear Demyx choke, as Roxas began laughing hysterically. Axel was leaning back into the couch, looking at me as if I were some foul demon from the bowels of hell as he made a cross with his fingers, as if to ward me off.

'_Like that's going to work…even if I _were_ a demon…'_

Roxas' laughter died down, and he cleared his throat, taking my attention away from his red-haired friend. I looked at him, raising an eyebrow expectantly. He grinned.

"I'm Roxas Sholdice…I'm going into Grade 11 this year, as you probably know—I've seen you in class before. I skateboard a lot, and I'm friends with that red-haired doofus on the couch." He jerked his thumb in Axel's direction, his grin widening.

Axel looked offended, and pretended to ignore Roxas. I felt a dull, throbbing pain start up in my chest as I was reminded of how Sam and I used to tease each other in a similar fashion. It hurt not having her here—I missed her immensely. I looked away from the two, covering my mouth with a hand so they wouldn't see my grimace of pain. Unfortunately, this alerted Demyx to my hurt, and he scooted over to me and wrapped me in a hug to comfort me. I immediately hid my face in his shirt, too ashamed of my weakness to look at the other two in the room.

"What happened to you? You look like your best friend just died," I heard Axel's voice say in an offhand manner. That just succeeded in making me feel even _more_ miserable.

"She might as well have," I responded into Demyx's shirt. I recalled the message Sam had sent me on Facebook. She had started it off with saying how much she missed me, but I knew her all too well. From the way she'd talked in the rest of the message, I knew she wasn't really going to come back to visit anytime soon, even though she'd said she would before she left.

I missed the look Axel and Roxas shared, but I did hear the grin in Axel's voice when he said, "Sounds like a job for _group hug therapy!_"

I immediately jerked my head up, a shocked and horrified look on my face, but didn't have anytime to further react before I promptly became the bologna in a group hug sandwich. I wriggled a bit, uncomfortable with the thought of having the same pair of arms hugging me that had beat up my brother, but when I gave up on struggling in all three boys' embraces, I found that it really _did_ make me feel better to have multiple people hugging me; it felt like they were lending me their strength and warmth, and it made me smile. It was then that I thought that maybe, I could've gotten the wrong first impression of Axel and Roxas, and that maybe, it would be possible for me to be friends with them.

Just maybe.

--

A/N: Yay, I finally did the disclaimer! And I'm sorry for making simple things so long-- I hadn't even described the main character yet, and it's the third chapter, already! ):

I mean... yay! It's the third chapter!! :D

Also, a big thank you to Talon83, for the very... _blunt_ review.


	4. Ice Cream Heals Almost All Wounds

I'd like to give a big thank you to **Talon83** and my anonymous reviewer, **Dude-Rawk**, for their awesome reviews. Thank you for your comments, peeps! :D Here is your update!

**NOTE:** I have changed this story's rating to T for Teen. Near the end of this chapter, there is self-mutilation and angst, and there will be for a couple more chapters after this. If you have a problem with this, you don't have to read it.

--

Now that the whole "group hug therapy" incident was over, all four of us were now squished together on the couch, sipping glasses of the Cherry Citrus Fresca I'd found in the back of the fridge, with our feet propped up on the coffee table, now that I'd forced Axel to take his shoes off while he was in my house. (Hey, I'm the lady of the house—I clean it, therefore I claim the right to call it mine.) Now that he'd done so, I was okay with him putting his feet up on the table—there wasn't any mud on _them_. Besides, it wasn't the table we ate off of, anyways. The order we were sitting in on the couch went Axel, Roxas, me, and then Demyx. I was surprised when Roxas turned to speak to me, but was even more surprised by the question he asked.

"Do you board, by any chance?"

I raised both eyebrows. "As in, skateboard? Yeah. How'd you know?" I was puzzled. I didn't remember saying I did, or even dropping any hints to suggest that I did. So how did he…?

"I saw your skateboard in the porch when Axel and I came in."

Oh. _Duh._ I resisted the urge to smack myself in the forehead. Of _course_ he would've seen it when he came in; it was sitting on top of the deep freezer in the porch, right in plain sight for the entire world to see. It wasn't anything fancy, really, since I didn't use it for much besides quick transport when I was too late leaving the house to get somewhere on time by walking. It was just a black board with white details.

In case you haven't noticed yet, I like black stuff with white details.

A lot.

"It's just for transportation. Sam tried teaching me a couple tricks, but they didn't stick." Just speaking her name started the dull, aching pain up again. I took a sip of my drink as an excuse not to look the blonde in the eye.

"Isn't she the one who—"

"Yeah," I cut in, blunt and to the point, not particularly wanting to hear the words from someone else's mouth. "She's gone now." I took another sip of my drink, forcing a blank expression on my face so I wouldn't give anything away.

"So _that's_ why you were sad," Axel said from on the other side of Roxas, grinning proudly, as if he'd just made the greatest accomplishment ever.

…Okay, so maybe they were smarter than I'd originally given them credit for.

"Yeah," I said reluctantly after a moment of silence, confirming Axel's conclusion. I drained the last of the Fresca in the bottom of my glass, standing to go to the kitchen and put my cup in the sink. Almost all at once, I found all three guys holding their cups out for me to take so they wouldn't have to get up.

I scowled at them, but took their cups. "Lazy pigs," I growled. Demyx smiled innocently, Roxas grinned sheepishly, and Axel just shrugged.

"True, but I'm sure you'll come to love us despite our very minor flaws," he smiled.

I smirked as I retreated to the kitchen. "Watch it, or you won't be able to fit that over-inflated ego of yours back out the door," I called back to him.

"That's just fine; me and my ego can always crash here for a while," he replied.

I pursed my lips. Okay, despite cheering me up with his "group hug therapy", as he called it, that was NOT about to happen. "Don't bet on it, _buster_," I ground out.

Besides the fact that _I_ did not want him over, Demyx most likely would not, either, and there was still my dad to think of yet. Although I hadn't seen him at all yesterday, it was probably that I was so absorbed in my book that I'd missed the knock on my door that usually came at about 9:00pm, which was the approximate time my dad would come home and challenge me and Demyx to a card game, or request the both of us to play a song together. As he was gone the vast majority of the time, it was the only time I got to spend with both him and Demyx at the same time, aside from his days off from work. His days off were few and far between, but he specifically made it family time on his days off, as he spent time after every working day with his woman instead of with us.

Sighing, I placed all four dirty cups in the sink and started heading back to the living room, but paused just out of sight when I heard the guys talking in low voices—likely so I wouldn't overhear what they were saying, but they were being just a bit too loud, if that were the point behind it. Being the achingly curious person I was, I stayed where I was and listened in on their conversation.

"…should do something to try and cheer her up," Axel suggested quietly.

"Yeah, can't have one of the _'tard_ gang feeling blue," Roxas joked. I bit my hand to keep from laughing; I was starting to like this guy already.

I heard what sounded like someone beating someone else with a pillow—my guess is it was Axel's retaliation to Roxas' remark. I heard someone sigh, and assumed it was Demyx, as he was the next to speak.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but…for once, I agree with you, Axel," he muttered.

I could hear Axel's grin in his voice as he said, "I know I'm right. Now, what would cheer Tor up really fast?"

'Ice cream' popped into my mind immediately.

"Ice cream," Demyx stated. I silently thanked the heavens that Demyx almost knew me better than I knew myself. I decided it would be okay to reveal my presence at this point, and poked my head around the corner to peer into the living room at the boys sitting on the couch.

"Did someone say…_ice cream?_"

-- -- --

So there we all were, sitting in a booth at Tastee's, eating ice cream out of a giant communal bowl of mango and vanilla ice cream (on my insistence). I smiled blissfully as I stuck a big spoonful in my mouth. Ice cream, to me, was a rare treat that I only indulged in on the hottest days of summer, or when I was too sad for Demyx to cheer me up fully… which, by the way, was very rare.

"Sooo… where were your parents?" Roxas inquired as he stole a spoonful of his own from the giant bowl. "I didn't see them at all the entire time we were at your house."

I nearly choked, but swallowed hard to keep myself from doing so. "Dad works at the hospital most days. He's a doctor," I stated bluntly. _'Oh, please, let them not ask about her. Please, please, please…'_ I silently begged. _She_ was a sore subject for me that I didn't enjoy talking about. To anyone. The only person that I could bring myself to talk to about _her_ was Demyx; but then again, he and I shared almost everything. He _was_ my brother, after all.

"Where's your mom?" Axel said, his voice muffled through a mouthful of ice cream.

Oh, great. He asked it. I felt my face go into shut-down mode, like it always did when someone touched on a subject I didn't want to talk about. I quickly took another big scoop of ice cream and ate it, pointedly ignoring Axel's question and soon finding myself distracted as the huge bite of frozen goodness gave me a brain freeze. I was extremely grateful when Demyx answered so I wouldn't have to.

"We haven't talked to her in a while," he stated, not giving them the specifics, but still giving them an honest answer at the same time, which they could think whatever they wished of.

I leaned back in the booth, placing my plastic spoon on the table and resting my head back on the firm-cushioned headrest, no longer in an "ice cream" kind of mood. I closed my eyes to signify I no longer wanted to be there. Demyx would understand as soon as he noticed, I was sure.

"Nice job, _Axel_," Roxas muttered in an accusing tone.

"Well, how was _I_ supposed to kn—"

"Umm…sorry to interrupt," Demyx interjected in what sounded like a nervous tone. I immediately felt bad for putting him on the spot, even though I hadn't done it intentionally. "Me and Tor are gonna head home now…" he trailed off. I opened my eyes, careful not to make eye contact with either Axel or Roxas, and nodded in agreement with Demyx's statement.

Roxas slid out of the booth and stood up at the same time I did, stepping towards me and wrapping his arms around me in a brief hug. "Don't let anything that bonehead says get to you, okay? He doesn't know what he's talking about half the time," he said, offering me a brilliant smile.

Axel promptly appeared behind him and put him in a headlock, giving him a rough noogie that further mussed his slightly lopsided spiky hairdo. "Quit talking trash about me, squirt!" he said, frowning.

Roxas growled, trying to beat Axel's arms off. "I'm only a year young than you, stupid!"

Axel grinned and released his hold on the smaller blonde, sweeping around him to lock me in a hug. "Yeah, but even Tor here is taller than you, shrimpy," he retaliated. It was true, too—I was about an inch or two taller than Roxas was.

I hastily ducked out of the flame-head's embrace, as he seemed too distracted by his word war with Roxas to remember to release his hold on me.

"Bye," I said to the two, not caring that they weren't listening, and walked out of the restaurant side-by-side with Demyx, not even bothering to look back.

-- -- --

The rest of the day passed without much happening—I ran through some songs on the baby grand piano Demyx and I had begged and pleaded and finally persuaded our dad to buy us as a joint Christmas gift last year, made supper for Demyx and myself again, and lost myself in my book again. However, when 9:00pm rolled around and footsteps thundered up the stairs only to end in frenzied knocking on my door, I purposely ignored it. I felt…empty. Lifeless. I don't know any other way to describe it. And I definitely did not want my father and Demyx to see me like this. No, I decided; I was not going out there right now. After a couple minutes, I heard a paper being slipped under the door. I didn't know what to make of this strange new development; neither Demyx nor dad had ever slipped me a note under my door before. Ever. Even feeling (or should I say, _not_ feeling) the way I did at that moment, my undying curiosity still managed to get the best of me.

After I was sure the footsteps had retreated all the way down the stairs, I slowly got up off my bed where I'd been lying spread-eagled, crossed the relatively clean floor to my door, and picked up the folded piece of paper with my name written on it in my father's nearly illegible scrawl with a little smiley face beside it. As this was something that'd never happened to me before, I had no idea what to expect. I hesitated for a moment before opening it, making sure I was firmly seated on the stool at my vanity before carefully unfolding it.

'_Dear Tor,' _the note read, _'I really wanted to tell you this in person, but I just can't wait until tomorrow to tell you, even though I have a day off. You see, I was going to tell you yesterday, but you didn't come out when I knocked. I hope Demyx told you like I asked him to, but if not, here it is: I asked the woman I've been dating for these past few months to marry me…'_

I inhaled sharply. Okay… I hadn't seen _that_ coming. My heart was a jumble of all sorts of emotions, and reading the next few words in the note just made it worse.

'…_and she said YES!'_

I couldn't help it—the floodgate holding back all of my tears burst, and I collapsed into hysterics, my tears soaking the note I was still clutching, and blurring the words together to form a completely illegible mess. There had been something after that last statement about her coming over, or some crap like that, but at that point, I didn't really give a damn. This woman was not my mother, and yet, to think that he was going to marry her without even _bothering_ to tell me he was considering it? I felt a sudden intense, all-consuming rage overtake my mind, and I knew no better way to release it than to have red appear someplace other than the red haze clouding my vision. I yanked my sweater over my head, tossing it to the floor and jerking a drawer in my vanity open violently, reaching into the very back and withdrawing the naked, sharp razorblade I hadn't utilised in almost half a year now…

…and promptly raking it down my upper left arm, drawing forth bright red blood that quickly trickled down my arm and calmed me marginally.

Now, all I had to do was hide it from everyone else.

After a moment of watching the blood drip onto my vanity and feeling my anger slip away, I opened another drawer and took out some bandages to wrap up the long, straight wound I'd made, securing it and throwing on a three-quarter length sleeved nightshirt and switching my jeans for my black-and-white polka-dotted PJ pants. After cleaning up the blood on my vanity and hiding my razorblade once again, I collapsed, spread-eagled, on my bed once again, not even bothering to crawl under the sheets before closing my eyes.

I was not looking forward to tomorrow.

--

Yay, fourth chapter done! I'm already almost finished writing the fifth chapter, and I'll likely finish it today. I'll have it typed up and posted on here by Wednesday.

Press that pretty purple button down there and review... you know you want to...


	5. Of Amarie, Zexion, and Angst

I lay in my bed, facing the wall to the left of my bed. Last I had checked, it was a little after 11:30am. My stomach had started growling at me over an hour ago, when I'd originally woken up fully, but as I had no idea when dad was bringing his _fiancée_—even the thought caused my blood to boil—over today, I forced myself to stay put in my nice, cozy, warm bad, right where I was. I ignored when the front door slammed what seemed like a few minutes later and my dad called for me and Demyx, though I heard Demyx jog down the stairs to meet him. I did not wish to speak to him—although I was calmer now, I still did not want to meet his _fiancée_. I growled, pulling my pillow over my head and ceasing all other movement.

A knock came on my door moments later. "Go away," I said, but it was muffled by my pillow. I heard my door squeak a bit as someone opened it. My mouth twisted into a vicious snarl, and I ripped my pillow off my head, throwing it in the direction of my door, not even looking to see who or what it hit before curling up in a ball facing the wall once again. I was enraged that someone had intruded upon my privacy—dad and Demyx had never done that before. It got worse, however, when the same someone that'd entered my room, so I assumed, sat on the edge of my bed, causing it to sink from their weight. I seethed.

"Tor, I—"

I interrupted who I now knew could only be the woman my dad was now engaged to, as it had been an older woman's voice that spoke.

"Get out."

"Tor, I understand you might not want your dad to marry me, but—"

"Shut up!" I shrieked, wrenching away from her as I felt her hand alight on my arm. I scrambled back onto the corner of my bed that was pushed up against the corner of my room's wall. "You're not my mother, and you never will be! So get out!" I snapped. I didn't care at that moment whether or not I was throwing her out without listening to her side of the story. I maintained my hard mask and accusing glare even as she gazed at me sadly.

"I'm not _trying_ to replace her, Tor," she said softly.

I looked away from her, glaring at my bedside table. "Get out," I reiterated frostily. I continued glaring at the table until she finally stood up a long moment later and slowly exited the room. I ground my teeth, holding back the tears I thought I'd rid myself of entirely yesterday night. I heard a slight creak in my doorway, and my gaze immediately darted over to find…

"Zexion?" I said, stunned and confused to find said black-haired boy leaning against my doorframe, staring at me with a calculating look on his face. Apparently, he seemed to deem it worthy of his time and breath to address my confusion.

"That was my mother," he said, and abruptly left before I had a chance to do anything more than gawp.

Great. Just great. I promptly clenched my fist and banged it against my injured arm, and the pain that immediately blazed through it afterwards told me I must have reopened the wound. Good. I needed something to distract me from the fact that I had quite possibly just ruined any chance I had had of having a positive relationship with Zexion after our parents got married. Tears now blurred my vision, staining my cheeks as they fell rapidly. I quickly got up and shut and locked the door to my room, not wanting anyone to see me in the state I was in.

By the end of that afternoon, I had two new cuts decorating my right shoulder.

-- -- --

I was lying on my bed once again, now having lost myself—though not fully—in my copy of Eclipse. I was somewhere in the seventh chapter when a loud, angry knocking came on my door. I glanced at my alarm clock—7:14pm. I'd missed supper, but then again, that was my reason for reading instead of going downstairs—I didn't want to talk to either my dad or my brother. I didn't want to talk to my dad for reasons I believe I've already made quite clear, and I didn't want to talk to my brother because he seemed to be okay with dad marrying Zexion's mom—plus, if I talked to him, there was always the possibility that I'd instinctively spill my new secret to him. I pointedly ignored the knocking and jiggling of the locked doorknob until I heard my dad's voice on the other side of the door.

"Tor, you unlock this door _right now_, or I swear I'll break it down!" he roared.

I slowly, reluctantly got up, crossing my floor to unlock my door, and I quickly stepped back as it suddenly flew open and my dad stepped in, grabbing me by my injured arm and causing me to wince, but it went unnoticed by him, as he was already dragging me down the stairs behind him. He practically threw me into the couch when we reached the living room, and he stalked towards me with a look that portrayed spite and rage, which frightened me, as I'd never seen a look like that on my father's face before. He leaned his furious face in towards mine, and I shrank back into the couch, very fearful of him at that moment. He sneered at me.

"Now, you listen to me, and you listen well. I do _not_ appreciate your behaviour towards Ámarie at _all_. You are going to march straight over to her house, and you are going to _apologize_. You are _not_ to come home until you do, do you understand? Good. 82 McDonald Drive. Now, get out of here," he said, dismissing me as though I were a mere servant he could order about as he wished. As soon as I was out of the house and out of his presence, my skateboard tucked under my arm, my blood began to boil for the umpteenth time that day.

'_How dare he!'_ I thought in my rage. _'How dare he treat me, his own daughter, like filth that is unworthy of his mere presence!'_

I threw down my skateboard on the sidewalk and set off at a rapid pace, wanting to get this apology over and done with—even though I knew it wouldn't be heartfelt, even if that were only because of the rage I felt towards my dad at that moment—so I could go back home and barricade myself in my room once more. As soon as I reached the blue-and-white house on McDonald Drive marked with an 82, I hopped off my board, stepping on the back of it to flip it up into my waiting hand.

I sighed deeply, reluctantly going up to the front doorstep and ringing the doorbell there. I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, feeling uncomfortable standing there on the doorstep that belonged to people I barely even knew. I was just turning to leave when I heard the door open quietly, making me turn back to see who it was that had come to the door. Upon seeing Zexion standing there with an unreadable expression on his face, I looked at the ground, feeling ashamed of what I had said to his mother earlier, and of the fact that he had overheard it, too. I chewed my lip for a moment, deliberating what I should do, still refusing to look at him.

"Umm…I'll just go—" I said, turning to leave, as I did not want to invoke anyone else's wrath tonight. I could deal with having my dad mad at me, but I didn't want Zexion mad at me, too. However, as I took a step away from the door, something caught my wrist, and as I turned back to see what it was, I was surprised to see Zexion's hand grasping it. My surprise quickly turned to confusion, which then turned to embarrassment as my stomach growled deafeningly loudly. My face flushed beet red.

"…I'll get you something to eat," Zexion stated.

I felt nervous in his presence, as I couldn't tell what he was thinking or feeling in the least, so I tugged my wrist out of his grasp after he pulled me inside the house and closed the front door. "No, that's really all right," I said, stepping towards the door once again, but Zexion blocked my way.

"If I am correct in my assumption, you haven't eaten at all today, have you," he more stated than asked. I looked away, not answering his question, but apparently, that was all the answer he needed, as he then grabbed my shoulder and whipped me around so I was facing a living room and, ultimately, a comfortable-looking reclining chair.

"Sit," he stated, then turned and walked into the next room, which I assumed to be the kitchen, as I could see a bit of the tile flooring from the angle I was at where I was standing at that moment. I quickly scampered over to the chair Zexion had directed me to sit in, as I did not want to invoke Zexion's wrath, especially now that he was going to bring me the food I so craved at that moment. By that point, I didn't much care what it was that he brought me; so long as it was edible, I would most likely eat it.

I took the time that Zexion was taking to get me some food to look around the living room. The chair I was in was pushed up against the wall the entrance to the kitchen was on, and there was a couch pushed up against the section of wall between where the chair was pushed up against and where the kitchen entryway was. There was a TV on the wall opposite the furniture with a combination VCR/DVD player hooked up to it. The walls were painted a light sky blue, and the carpet was a mottled brown. I was decidedly neutral about the room as a whole. I looked down at the skateboard I had still been clutching in my lap, and carefully leaned it up against the side of the chair. When I looked up, I jumped when I saw Zexion standing in front of me, holding a plate of food out to me.

My mouth began watering as I accepted the plate of two halved grilled cheese sandwiches. "Thanks," I said as Zexion went to sit in the middle of the couch before I muttered, "damn ninja." I could've swore I saw a smirk on his face for a split second before his expression became unreadable once again as I bit into one of my sandwich halves. I quickly polished off an entire sandwich.

"This is good," I said before starting on my second. It _was_ good—I was surprised, and a bit upset, I'll admit, to find that Zexion actually made better grilled cheese sandwiches than I did.

"…" Zexion turned to face me where I was sitting, curled up in the armchair, facing in his general direction. "Why did you come here?" he asked, looking thoughtful.

I swallowed the bite I'd been working on loudly. "Umm… I'm supposed to apologize to your mom," I admitted, staring at the suddenly very interesting carpet.

"She's not here," he stated bluntly.

"Well…when will she be back?" I asked. Knowing my luck, she'd probably be gone all week, but I held firm to my hope that she'd be back in a few minutes or so.

Unfortunately, I didn't seem to have such luck.

"She won't be back until about midnight."

"What?!" I exclaimed in shock.

Zexion's expression didn't change in the slightest. "She went to visit my aunt and uncle in the city. My uncle called after supper to tell us my aunt broke her arm."

I gawped, burying my face in my hands. _Now_ what was I supposed to do? I was much like a little kid when it came to the aspect of sleep—I had trouble staying up past eleven, even, and could only do it when I was completely absorbed in an activity of some sort—and even then, I felt the fatigue. Now, if Sam were still here, I would've just skipped over to her house and stayed the night there, no problem, and just come back here in the morning. _'However,'_ I reminded myself, _'she's gone. Face it—things aren't the way they used to be anymore, and they will never be that way again, so quit living in a fantasy world.'_

"Let me guess, your dad doesn't want you to leave until you've apologized," Zexion said, breaking through my train of thought and startling me with how accurate his guess was. I looked at him strangely.

"Do you have ESP or something?" I said. _'Oh, please don't say he can read my mind!'_ I silently pleaded. My mind, like my room, I considered my own private place no one could intrude upon. But if he could, all my horrible thoughts and secrets would be laid bare to the world—I didn't doubt that for one second.

"No, I'm just good at reading between the lines… and paying attention to details," he stated. I sighed in relief, and I knew I wasn't hallucinating this time when I saw him smirk. "Should I call Thomas and let him know you'll be here a while?" he asked, calling my dad by his name. I nodded, and draped my legs over the arm of the chair as he went into the kitchen to, I assumed, use a phone in there.

I sighed and curled my upper half that was still in the chair into the backrest. Once my dad found out how late Ámarie was getting back, he would likely tell Zexion about my sleeping habits, and he'd not expect me to come back until morning.

No, scratch that—he wouldn't _let_ me come back until morning.

I decided to make the most of it, and closed my eyes, feeling fatigue from the stressful day come crashing down on me as I drifted into a half-asleep state.

Just before sleep completely overtook me, I had the sensation of being moved briefly, and of something warm covering me. After that, with the delicious warmth accompanying me in my journey towards dreamland, I knew nothing more but the unconsciousness that I gladly welcomed.

--

Hey peeps! Once again, a big thank you to **Talon83** and **Dude-Rawk** for reviewing! And, my apologies, as I realize there is no Demyx, Roxas, or Axel in this chapter at all, but I thought it was kind of necessary with what I'm planning on making happen in this story. D:

Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be able to update this story for about three weeks, I'm estimating, at the most. As Ai-Kon, the local anime convention in my area (not really close by--it's three hours away, but oh well; I'm going anyways), is on July 25-27, I am in a mad rush to make all of my cosplay outfits as perfect as possible-- I _would_ only have had two, if my friend who cannot sew worth a darn (**Persion** on this site) had not asked me to sew her outfit, as well... and thrown 25 into the deal... D: I'd charge more, but I know she's gonna blow all the rest of her money at the 'con, most likely. And as a fellow 'con-goer, although I _do_ love money, I am not cruel enough as to demand more from her. :3 I get money. That's all that matters to me. 3

Anywho... I'll not be boring you all with any more boring details of my life in the real world. xD Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and, once again... that purple button is down there for a reason. 3 Review, please!


	6. Sexy Pancakes

A/N: Yessss! Surprise, bishes!! To heck with that whole "three week wait"! I have a RL friend who's bugging me to update _now_, because she knows I have the sixth chapter done and I was just too lazy to post it, so... have a present!! ;D

Oh yes, and thank you once again to **Talon83** and **Dude-Rawk** for your mrooferously awesome reviews!  
And P.S. **Dude-Rawk**, your question will be answered... soon. ;D

--

The first thing I became aware of, before I had even opened my eyes, was that something being cooked smelled good. As my brain began to wake up, I realized two things:

1) It couldn't be dad or Demyx cooking, because neither of them could cook to save their lives, and

2) I was _starving_.

I groaned, not wanting to get up, or even open my eyes, for that matter, but I could not ignore my stomach's protests. I rolled over to my left, but ran into the wall. It seemed softer than usual, for some reason unbeknownst to me, but I didn't ponder the fact, instinctively rolling back to the right, intending to roll to the edge of my bed, which I knew approximately where it was, and swing my legs over the edge to stand up, but I ran out of bed much sooner than I'd anticipated, resulting in me performing in me performing what I'm sure would've been a hilarious face-plant on the floor, had I not been the one who did it. There was a loud, reverberating _THUMP!_ as I impacted on the floor. Believe you me when I say it is not particularly pleasant to have carpetburn jerk you from a half-asleep stupor.

I groaned in pain, pulling the blanket back over me that'd been draped over me before. Maybe I'd be able to fall back asleep while on the floor… The carpet seemed softer than usual, for some reason, just like the wall had. Or maybe I was just hallucinating because I was still tired. I became aware of the sound of rushing footsteps approaching me—two pairs, which confused me greatly. Hadn't dad and Demyx stopped running to my room whenever I fell out of bed years ago?

"Oh! Tor, sweetie, are you okay?" A female voice asked breathlessly as a small, delicate-feeling hand alighted on my shoulder. Although it was female, my mind started to clear of the sleep-induced stupor that still affected it as the wheels in my mind began churning. No, it was neither my mother nor Sam.

It all crashed down on me as my mind suddenly brought up my memories of them, and I comprehended my situation of that moment all too well. I was at Ámarie and Zexion's place, and the voice was not my friend's or my mother's. It was impossible for it to be one of them, no matter how much I might wish it were. This was Ámarie, the lady my dad was going to marry. It was not my mother; she'd abandoned us years ago. Nor was it Sam; she'd abandoned me only days ago, much like my mother had. I was here to apologize to Ámarie. I would do that much, but it would not be for my father's sake.

No; it would be for Demyx. He would want me to be able to get along with her.

"'m fine," I mumbled, still not opening my eyes. "Happens all the time at home."

That didn't mean it didn't hurt, persé, but her worry over me made me extremely uncomfortable, so I attempted to quell her worries. Dad and Demyx hadn't worried about me in a long time; they both knew that I could take care of myself. I felt a twinge of guilt over how I'd begun cutting even though they trusted me not to be stupid enough to do that, but I quickly pushed it away. Ámarie patted my shoulder softly.

"Why don't you get up off the floor, dear? Breakfast's almost ready." I could hear the amusement in her voice now that there was no worry tingeing it. I heard a pair of footsteps shuffling quietly away from me, which puzzled me for a moment, as Ámarie was just removing her hand from my shoulder at that moment, but then it hit me:

Zexion had just seen me in an extremely embarrassing situation, and had overheard me trying to reassure his mom.

Given, the second thing wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but I was embarrassed, nonetheless. I groaned and stood up from my place on the nice, fluffy carpet, as Ámarie placed a hand on my shoulder to keep me from falling back over.

Wait, why was I embarrassed, anyway? He and I were going to be siblings. And besides, it wasn't like he was going to tell people at school that I often fell out of bed in the morning. As Demyx had told me, he didn't really talk to a lot of people. As I followed Ámarie into the kitchen to sit at their dinner table, my embarrassment turned to a feeling of honour. Zexion had talked to _me_ last night, despite the overall anti-social description Demyx had given me of him. I smiled as Ámarie set a plate, fork, and knife in front of me, before setting places for herself and Zexion.

Wait a minute… she said breakfast was almost ready, but she wasn't making it. I looked behind her, where a stove was situated, to see Zexion standing in front of the stove, stirring something in a pot and, to my utter disbelief and extreme amusement, wearing a "Kiss the Cook" apron. I bit my lip to keep from laughing out loud, but a grin still lit up my face, and my shoulders shook from the laughter I held inside. I managed to force my silent laughter to stop as Zexion took the apron off, putting oven mitts on and bringing over to place on the table what turned out to be a delicious-looking stack of golden-brown pancakes and a pot of strawberry sauce to put on them. I could feel my mouth watering and my stomach growling quietly as the delicious smell of the strawberry sauce reached my nose. I discreetly punched myself in the stomach underneath the table as Zexion and Ámarie both sat down in their respective places at the table, careful to keep a stoic face, lest they realize what I'd done. Somehow, I didn't think that they—especially Ámarie—would appreciate my self-abuse.

I was left unsure of what to do when Ámarie and Zexion both bowed their heads and closed their eyes, until I heard Ámarie say, "Thank you, God, for this food." I suddenly clued in that they were thanking God for the food (well, now that she'd spoken, it was really quite obvious), and quickly dipped my head and closed my eyes until they finished their thanks with an "Amen". Ámarie served me three delicious-looking pancakes smothered in the heavenly-smelling strawberry sauce, which I quickly wolfed down.

"This is _awesome_," I told Zexion truthfully, keeping the hint of jealousy I felt towards him and upset over the fact that there'd soon be a better cook than me in the family from showing through in either my expression or my voice. Zexion looked up at me from cutting up his second pancake; he seemed to be a slow, methodical kind of eater—the exact opposite of me.

"…Thank you," he said, though his eyes bore into mine, as if he were searching my soul to see if my compliment were really sincere. It unnerved me greatly, but I kept myself from shifting in my seat to show how uncomfortable I really was as he stared at me like that.

Overall, breakfast was fairly quick and quiet, and I managed to apologize to Ámarie afterwards (in private; even though I knew Zexion would find out about it soon enough anyways, my pride was being wounded enough as it was from apologizing, alone). I boarded back to my place, politely refusing Ámarie's offer to drive me home, as skateboarding, walking, and swimming in the pool we have in the backyard, now that it's summer, were the only forms of exercise I got.

Y'know, now that I've actually bothered to talk to Ámarie—I can't believe I'm saying this, but—maybe having dad remarried won't be so bad, after all. That is, given she doesn't abandon us like my _real_ mom did. But I did certainly seem capable of getting along with Zexion, which made me wonder: Was he trying harder to be friends with me than he tried to be friends with the other people at school because he was going to be related to me soon?

I shook my head and hopped off my board, quickly kicking it up into my hand, as I neared my house. _'Weird… I don't recognize that car. Who could possibly be here?'_ I thought, curiosity overwhelming me as I rushed through the front door, kicking my shoes off as I closed said door after me and placed my board on top of the deep freezer once again.

"Demyx, I'm home!" I called loudly, knowing that since dad had a day off yesterday, he'd undoubtedly be back at work yet again today. I was only a few steps away from the kitchen entryway when I heard a now horrifyingly familiar voice yell,

"DOGPILE ON TOR!!"

I was promptly knocked to the ground beneath what felt like over 400 pounds' worth of people. I was too busy trying to regain my breath to do any more than wheeze, "My poor spleen!" That's all right, though. They seemed to hear my pained statement, as everyone piled on top of me quickly scrambled off, leaving me free to haul my now sore body up into a sitting position facing the perpetrators, giving them my Super Ultra Death Glare of Doom™. I should've known it was none other than Axel, Roxas, and…

I gawped. "Demyx!" I exclaimed in a (fake) hurt tone. I felt like playing this up a bit. "How _could_ you?!" I switched to hurt and resentment, with a bit of anger mixed in. I always was a fairly good actor—my mom even told me so when I was little—but I never did a lot of it, because:

A) Our school has a crappy drama club, and even crappier actors, and

B) I never did have enough commitment, anyways. Let's face it—I'm a lazy ass.

Either way, as usual, Demyx fell for my act (yeah, I did this to him every once in a while—just not often enough for him to expect it of me), looking at me with big, watery blue eyes as he pulled me up off the floor and into a bone-crushing embrace.

"I'm so sorry, Tor! Did I hurt you? Did that fat Axel hurt you?" he asked. I heard an indignant cry of "hey!" from Axel. "Please forgive me! I'm sorry if I hurt either you or your feelings, Tor!!" he blubbered.

Okay, this might just be me in one of my most heartless moments ever, but I find it kind of amusing when Dem gets all teary because he thinks I'm mad at him. Silly boy. Can't he tell by now that I love him too much to act that way towards him for real?

"If you don't mind, could we have your sappy 'forgive me for my sins' moment in the car? Rox and I are dragging _both_ of your butts to Brandon, no ifs, ands, or buts about it except both of yours, planted in my car," Axel said, still seeming a bit peeved about the whole "fat Axel" remark.

"Never! We're not leaving until Tor forgives me!" Demyx stated stubbornly.

I smirked. _'Perfect.'_

"I forgive you if I get shotgun!" I said in a rush, breaking free of Demyx's embrace and dashing to the porch, shoving my feet in my black-and-white checkered flats before rushing out to the car in our driveway, which I now assumed to be Axel's. Just before I slipped out the door, I heard Demyx yell, "Dammit! She did it again!" as he finally clued in to what had just happened. I just grinned as I ran to Axel's '97 Dodge Neon—which was red, just like his hair, I noted—and swiftly claimed the passenger's seat. I'd just end up sleeping during the drive to the small city (or large town, whichever you prefer to call it), so it didn't matter to me that I'd be sitting beside Axel. This was a habit that had stayed with me since infancy, much like my difficulty staying awake past 11pm; approximately five or so minutes after the car starts rolling, I'd fall asleep. Obviously, I had no problem with in-town drives from one destination point to another, but longer drives I always fell asleep during, and Brandon was a little over half-an-hour's drive away.

Yeah, I'd definitely be asleep most of the ride there.

I felt my jeans pocket for my mp4 player, deciding to listen to some music while Demyx was still in the house, fussing over what to bring and searching for both of our wallets (he did this every time we went out of town, as I always rushed out to claim shotgun the moment I found out we were heading out of town, without doing anything but throwing my shoes on, leaving Dem to scrounge for my wallet as well as his, plus anything else we might need on the way there).

I frowned, digging through my pocket to the very bottom. Why wasn't it there? I felt the panic starting to rise in the back of my mind. Did it fall out on my skateboarding trip to or from Ámarie's house? Did it fall out of my pocket when I was sleeping on the couch? It actually wasn't worth all that much money; it was just a 2GB player with video capabilities that was a cheap knock-off brand of iPod, and it apparently cost less than 50 (I'd checked it out online), but it was a gift from Sam before she left, so it was kind of special to me—it had sentimental value. I checked my other pockets, but to no avail. I grit my teeth, turning to the window, reaching out to open the car door, when I looked out the window—

—And shrieked.

I clapped my hand over my heart as it thundered in my chest from the scare I'd just gone through. Outside the car door, there Zexion stood, smirking. He opened my door and held out a hand to me, seeming impervious to the Super Ultra Death Glare of Doom™ I gave him. It was then that I noticed what he was holding in his hand.

"My mp4!" I cried, ecstatic that I had it back. I quickly got out of the car and glomped Zexion with a loud "Thank you!" before taking my mp4 back and hugging it. (Yes, I hug inanimate objects… but only the ones that are precious to me.) Then, a thought occurred to me. "Say, Zexion… do you have anything you have to do today?" I said, the wheels in my mind turning rapidly, thinking up an idea that might make my time with Axel more bearable (I don't say with Axel and Roxas, 'cuz Rox is actually pretty darn cool).

Zexion's eyes narrowed a bit. "Nothing but make supper for my mom. What're you planning?" he asked suspiciously.

Dang, he's onto me… oh, well. I promptly latched onto his arm so he couldn't escape.

"Come to Brandon with us!" I chirped in a fake sugary, happy tone, opening the back car door for Zexion and guiding him in so he was sitting in the backseat. "Now, normally I would offer to let you sit on my lap or something, but I'm pretty sure that's illegal," I joked, grinning.

Zexion crossed his arms over his chest. "And what do I get for coming with you?" he asked.

Damn, he's a demanding bugger, isn't he? Oh, well. I guess I'll have to get used to that. It's at times like this that I think God for my quick thinking.

"I'll buy you a t-shirt and decorate it!" I grinned again. "I can see it now: 'I drove to Brandon with Axel and survived'!"

Okay, now I was starting to worry about how well Axel could drive.

Zexion seemed thoughtful for a moment. "…Fine."

"YES!" I pumped my fist in the air victoriously. "I MAY STILL LIVE!"

"Whoa! Calm, Tor!" I heard Roxas chuckle as he came out of the house, Axel in tow. "Oh yeah, and you owe me one—I kept Axel from thoroughly exploring your room," he said, releasing the antsy redhead in front of me so I could wail on him. It's at times like this that I'm grateful Roxas is more understanding of females' need for privacy than his friend is. I promptly punched Axel twice in his left arm—_hard_.

"Ow! OW! Damn, you're strong for a girl!" Axel remarked. I quickly fixed him with a warning glare—I do _not_ take it kindly when people follow up remarks, or even _compliments_, with "for a girl". And before you ask, no, I am _not_ an extreme feminist who burns her bras or anything. I _do_, however, believe in equal rights. Thankfully, Axel caught my drift, and quickly rushed over to the driver's side of the car, fishing his keys out of his pocket before getting in the driver's seat. Roxas was already in the backseat, as far away from Zexion as humanly possible, leaving a big gap between the two.

Out of nowhere, my purse smacked me on the side of the head. I staggered away from the front passenger seat car door from the weight of it (yes, I am a female, therefore I keep everything I deem an "essential" in it). As I reached down to pick it up from the spot it'd fallen to on the ground after whomping me in the head, I heard a car door slam. As I straightened, purse now gripped in my hand, I was shocked to see Demyx sitting in my seat… _my seat!_ I scowled and glared dangerously at Demyx, letting him know that I was _pissed_. I quickly flung open the car door Zexion was situated beside and crawled over him to sit in the space between him and Roxas, wasting no time in doing up my seatbelt—I still had no clue how good of a driver Axel was. I turned to Zexion and pouted.

"Zexion, Demyx is being a meanie pants!" I said, giving him the best puppy dog eyes and pout I could muster. "Hold me?" I asked, sounding hopeful. Come to think of it, Zexion was _the_ only person in the car that I had yet to hug. I just thought it was amusing to act like a little kid. Unfortunately, though, Zexion seemed to be impervious to my childish act.

"…No," he said, his voice and face both completely devoid of any trace of emotion. I gave him a hurt look.

"F-fine!" I said, turning to clutch Roxas' arm. He's too cool to be a spoil-sport wet blanket like _Zexion_. "I'd rather have Roxas hold me, anyways. Then it wouldn't feel like incest," I managed to say totally straight-faced. Roxas snickered, and I heard Axel bang his head on the steering wheel before finally starting the car and backing out of our driveway onto the road.

"Erm… just a brief warning beforehand," I said as quietly as I could to Roxas, refusing to scratch the back of my head out of nervous habit as I continued to hold his arm, though my grip was looser now. "I tend to fall asleep whenever I'm on a car ride longer than five minutes… it's why my dad never lets me drive." I chuckled nervously. It was very embarrassing to tell Roxas that, but nowhere near as bad as it would've been, were it Axel I'd been talking to. Besides, he had to know, as I was likely going to fall asleep on him. I just hoped I'd been quiet enough, and Axel'd been focused enough on the road, that he hadn't heard me.

Roxas grinned at me. "You are one weird girl, Tor," he said, looking at my mp4 I was still holding in my right hand. "Tell you what; I'll let you use my shoulder for a headrest if you let me listen to your mp3."

"Hmm… Seems like a fair enough trade to me," I said, smirking. "But I still want one earphone until I fall asleep." Music helped me fall asleep—even though I'm pretty sure I won't really need any help with that. I just like listening to music.

Roxas pouted a bit. He's actually kind of cute when he pouts. "Fine," he grumbled. I grinned triumphantly and offered him an earbud, sticking mine in my own ear as he did the same. I quickly turned on my player and set it to randomly shuffle all my songs. The first one that came on was "There's No 'I' In Team" by Taking Back Sunday. I closed my eyes and leaned my head on Roxas' shoulder as I felt the constant forward motion of the car now that we were on the highway lulling me to sleep.

The last thing I heard before I fell asleep was Roxas remarking, "Y'know, Zexion, if you keep hanging out with us, we'll have to change our name to the T.A.R.D.Z. gang." Then the music was removed from my ear, and I drifted into blissful unconsciousness with a smile on my face.

--

**A/N:** I've edited out the repetition at the beginning of the chapter-- thanks for pointing that out, **Dude-Rawk**!

And btw, "mrooferously" is sort of like "awesomely"... to the power of twelve billion and seventy-two.


	7. Dance Dance Revolution!

"Tor…ugh. Tor, wake up. We're here." There was a pause as I stubbornly refused to open my eyes. I wasn't ready to wake up yet; I'd just been having a really good (strange though it was) dream.

"Come on, Tor. My arm's falling asleep."

_'No. I don't wanna get up. Deal with it.'_

"…I'll buy you ice cream later if you get up," they said in a hopeful tone. I instantly shot up straight in my sitting position.

"You have my attention," I said to Roxas, grinning at him. "I'll make sure to hold you to that." I took my mp4 player back as he held it out to me and stuffed it in my purse, zipping it up afterwards. "So where are we going first?" I asked as I noticed we were just approaching a stoplight. It turned red as I looked at it, and I felt the car slow down as Axel made to stop at the light.

"Senate Skate Shop," Roxas said, at the same time Demyx said "Ted Good's Music" and Zexion said "Corral Center".

"That's it, all of you shut up! Tor gets to decide where we go," Axel declared. Roxas, Zexion, and Demyx all simultaneously turned to glare at me.

"…Well?" Demyx demanded, his eyes telling me I'd better choose his desired destination… just like Roxas' and Zexion's were.

Oh, boy. This might not turn out too good.

"Uhh… just a minute," I said, quickly weighing my options. All of the other three's suggested places were places I wanted to go to, but I didn't want two out of the three to be mad at me for the rest of the day, so I decided to choose the only other place I could think of off the top of my head that would be a good compromise for everyone.

"RUCKERS!!" I practically shrieked.

"Whoa! Calm down, Tor!" Axel exclaimed, turning left as the turning signal on the stoplight turned green.

-- -- --

"Ahh, Ruckers; my home away from home," I sighed contentedly as I pushed through the glass door into my beloved arcade. The guy behind the ticket exchange counter gave me a weird look, which I pointedly ignored.

He must be new.

I tied my hair back in a low ponytail with a hair elastic I fished out of my jeans pocket as the guys all filed into the arcade after me, before digging a couple ten-dollar bills out of my purse to change into tokens. I had just bought the tokens and handed some out to Roxas, Axel, and Zexion when I heard Demyx call my name. I looked over at him to see what he wanted. Demyx assumed a firm stance, pointing at me with a smirk on his face.

"You. Me. Dance off," he stated. There was no way out—Demyx was standing between me and the exit, and the Dance Dance Revolution machine was a ways behind me.

Not that it mattered—this was the real reason I'd wanted to come here, anyways. Dance Dance Revolution (also known as DDR) was one of the few things I was better than Demyx at (aside from cooking and sewing, because he doesn't do those at all), so I allowed myself a certain amount of pride in the fact.

I grinned broadly at my brother. "Oh, it's _on_."

I quickly raced over to the DDR machine, Demyx right on my tail, and inserted my tokens, handing some to Demyx to insert on his side. I selected Heavy mode, while Dem selected Moderate.

I loved DDR—I wasn't keen on actual dancing, but with DDR, there were set moves that you were supposed to do, which I liked. It could have to do with the fact that I don't like surprises. I like predictability. Which makes me wonder how in the seven seas I ever became best friends with Sam, who's pretty much the queen of unpredictable.

My feet were all over the place (in a good way). As expected, I missed a few steps, but other than that, I did pretty well for not having done any DDR in the past few weeks—I hadn't had time, as I'd been rushed to get all my work done before the last day of school so I could just kick back and relax on the last day.

As my feet hit the correct last indicated arrows on the dance met, Demyx doing the same, I heard whistles and applause erupt behind us, and I turned, puzzled, to see Roxas and Axel clapping, Axel whistling enthusiastically, as well. Zexion, standing a little ways away from them, had his arms crossed over his chest and an unreadable expression on his face. I grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of my head embarrassedly, as I turned back to the Dance Dance Revolution screen to see what Demyx's and my scores had been.

It was the usual—we both had Grade B, but Demyx had a few less missed steps than I did; I made up for that by being on Heavy instead of Moderate, though.

As Dem stepped off the platform, I was surprised when Zexion took his place before I followed my brother's lead. Confusion swept through me. What was silent, stoic Zexion doing now? My answer came as quickly as the confusion had.

"I challenge you," he said, not in a loud voice, but in a calm voice that was just loud enough for the others to hear if they were listening quietly—which they weren't, because Axel and Roxas seemed to be pestering Demyx about only-God-knows-what.

My brain seemed to be having trouble processing the fact that _Zexion_, of all people, had just challenged me to DDR—he didn't seem like the type of person who'd enjoy DDR to me.

Then again, I could say the same thing about myself, what with walking, swimming, and skateboarding being my only other forms of exercise, seeing as I hate getting sweaty… I don't think I play DDR near enough for it to actually qualify as a form of exercise for me, though, in my opinion. I don't even understand how I like it, seeing as it makes me all sweaty, and that's the part of exercise that I hate the most. I don't think I'll ever understand myself.

I shrugged at Zexion, shoving more tokens in the token slot as a silent acceptance of his challenge, Zexion quickly doing the same. I picked a different song than Demyx had picked last time, and was flabbergasted to see that Zexion was on Heavy mode, just like I was. I didn't have time to gape, though, because the song was already starting, and I couldn't afford to miss any steps just because I hadn't considered the fact that Zexion just might be better than me at DDR.

I focused on the complicated steps, trying to nail them all, but missing one or two every so often. I only allowed myself to glance over at Zexion once to sate my curiosity about how he was doing. Unfortunately, since the song was going so fast and I was on Heavy mode, that one glance at his calm, focused, and…determined?…face cost me four steps I could've otherwise nailed, easy as pie… well, pie made with pre-made filling and store-bought crust, that is. Making pie from scratch is not easy. At all.

As I caught up with the steps once again, I felt a burning determination to beat Zexion in this one area. I already knew he was a better cook than me, but I wanted to be better than him at this. He was going to be my brother-in-law, and that meant that between him and Demyx, they'd be better than me at everything other than sewing and skateboarding (and this, if I beat him)…unless Zexion did _those_ well, too.

I felt a rush of adrenaline overtake me as I started missing less and less steps. I knew I was sweating plenty by the time the song was over, but at the moment, I didn't really care—I was just anxious to see what our scores had been. I was aware of the stunned silence behind us, and I assumed that everyone was just as stuned as I'd been that Zexion was so good at DDR. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, trying to assess his mood. He seemed… anxious? No, that couldn't be possible. Was he worried he might've lost? That couldn't be right. I quickly looked back at the screen as the machine finished calculating our scores. We both had an A…

…And I had three more missed steps than Zexion did.

I felt the irresistible urge to punch something as I read the score over again. If I hadn't have _stupidly_ glanced over at Zexion, then I could've _won!_ I am a sore loser any day, but this loss just pissed me off all the more, what with the circumstances involved. I turned to leave, but Zexion's voice made me pause. I bristled; I didn't turn to look at him as he spoke. My gaze was a glare at that moment, and I didn't remove said glare from the Whack-a-Mole game positioned a ways behind the DDR machine.

"Good game," Zexion said, and a small voice in the back of my my mind told me that he was right; it _was_ just a game, and I shouldn't be so pissed about losing, but I was far too angry and upset to listen to what I would later realize was the rational part of my mind. I didn't turn to look at Zexion even as I spoke.

"Whatever," I said icily, not looking at any of the guys' expressions as I hastily left Ruckers for the sanctuary of Axel's car.

I was actually surprised to find that the car was unlocked as I slid into the back seat and closed the door behind me; even though the car wasn't new, and Brandon was basically just a big town, he still shouldn't leave his car unlocked. However, my surprise and (very) slight concern for the safety of Axel's car quickly faded in the face of my anger and shame.

I was angry because everyone else around me seemed to be so much better at everything than I was, and I was ashamed of myself for having been so cold towards _Zexion_, who hadn't even done anything wrong to give me a reason to be so cold to him. It wasn't _his_ fault he was better than me at DDR… and cooking… and likely many other things, as well. I just wasn't good at anything.

Tears sprung to my eyes as I thought this, and I felt ashamed once again, but this time I was ashamed of how weak I was, that a mere _thought_ had brought me to tears; it was humiliating. I quickly kicked my dirty shoes off (out of respect for Axel's car) before placing my feet on the seat, wrapping my arms around my legs and burying my face in my jeans as the traitorous tears leaked out of my eyes, dampening my pants' legs.

I probably shouldn't have been as surprised as I was at that moment to hear the car door open, as I felt someone slide into the back seat next to my feet, which were taking up the middle space; the car door slammed loudly shut. I heard a sigh from the other person in the car as the shameful tears still trailed down my face, and I made a futile effort to try and slow them, still refusing to look up. From the sound of their sigh, I had a pretty good idea just who it probably was that had entered the car.

The person shifted in their seat. "Whoa! Tor, are you _crying?_" asked the voice of the person I wanted to speak to the _least_ right now. I finally looked up, fixing the redhead with a glare that could kill (I wish).

"What's it to you, _Axel?_" I spat venomously. My suspicions about who it was had been proved true.

Axel put his hands up in defense. "Whoa, calm down, Tor! It was just a question," he said, frowning. "Is it against the law to be concerned about my friend?"

"No," I answered, which caused Axel to grin. He opened his mouth to say something, but I interrupted him by adding, "But that doesn't matter here, because I don't make friends with people who take my brother for a punching bag."

Axel's jaw dropped; he looked like someone had just punched him in the gut. I felt the smallest tinge of regret, but I made no effort to make amends. I'd been itching to tell him off all day, ever since I'd discovered him at my house.

Roxas was a nice guy; someone I could forgive for being a bystander when Axel beat Demyx up, and just go on being friends with. He'd taken me aside when the whole lot of us (having been Demyx, Axel, Roxas and I at that time) had been walking down to Tastee's and told me he was sorry that he hadn't done anything to try and get Axel to stop, but he was too abashed to tell Demyx that to his face, so I'd relayed Roxas' apology to my brother, and then relayed Demyx's forgiveness to Roxas; he had seemed relieved, which further proved to me that the blond was a nice, sensible guy—albeit a bit of a nut to hang out with Axel.

On the other hand, Axel hadn't even apologized to _me_ for beating up my brother, and _I_ was the one he'd wanted to hang out with. And if he wasn't going to apologize for what he'd done, then in my opinion, he should take his unapologetic behavior and shove it right up his—

My train of thought was interrupted when Axel spoke.

"Is _that_ what this is all about?" he said, grinning. "That's why you don't seem to like me?"

I opened my mouth to clarify for him that indeed I did not like him, but he quickly reached over and pinched my lips shut, giving me the urge to bite the offending fingers off and managing to tick me off more than he ever had before… which is really saying something.

"You shush, I talk," he stated, irking me further, but I settled for glaring at him, deciding to let him speak for now. He released his grasp on my lips when he realized I was going to cooperate.

"If it makes you feel better, I _am_ sorry I beat up your brother. It's just… well, I had my reasons for doing what I did," he said, not looking at me when he said the last part. He looked back at me then, grinning. "I already apologized to your bro, though."

Surprised, I opened my mouth to ask when, but as soon as I did, Axel's hand was over my mouth as he "tsk"ed, still grinning, wagging a finger at me in a condescending manner.

"What did I say about talking, silly girl?" he said teasingly. I glared at him, contemplating whether I should lick his hand or bite it. "Anyways, I apologized to Demyx this morning before you got back from your dad's fiancée's pla—YOWTCH!!" he yelped, ripping his hand from my mouth after I'd finished deliberating my choices and decided to bite his hand.

I honestly wasn't sure how he would've taken it f I'd licked his hand… I could see him being a closet pervert and taking it the wrong way, so I'd decided to just bite him and get it over with.

"Y…you _bit_ me…!" he cried, his voice an octave higher from both pain and shock. I just rolled my eyes and stuck my tongue out at him.

"Well, no duh, _Sunshine_," I said, voice thick with sarcasm. "It was the quickest way to get your frickin' hand off my mouth, seeing as I was rendered incapable of _speech_, genius."

Axel sighed exasperatedly, closing his eyes and covering his face with one of his hands. After a moment, he removed his hand and re-opened his eyes to look at me again.

"Look, Tor, can we just…" he seemed to search for his next words, as he hesitated before continuing on to say, "can we just start over?"

I gave him a blank look; I had no idea what in the world he was talking about.

He sighed again. "Well…it's just… you seem to be really hitting it off with Rox and all—and I'm real happy about that, don't get me wrong—it's just… I'd like for us to be friends too, y'know? So… since I've apologized and all that, now…" he trailed off, grinning. He promptly stuck his non-bitten hand out for me to shake. "I'm Axel Waddell, soon-to-be Grade 12 student, pyro, and leader of the… T.A.R.D. … gang," he said, with obvious reluctance to say the gang's name.

I grinned. "Actually, I believe it's the T.A.R.D.Z. gang now," I corrected him teasingly as I shook his hand. He had an almost painfully tight grip; I withdrew my hand as quickly as was possible without seeming impolite. It felt strange, trying to be polite to _Axel_, of all people, but I kept in mind that he _had_ apologized to both me and my brother for his previous actions, and he wanted a fresh start with me—he wanted to be friends.

Friends with a guy other than my brother… That was a fairly alien concept to me, having grown up in as small a town as I had, but, like with Roxas, I decided that it wouldn't hurt to give it a shot.

'_What the heck; might as well try.'_

Axel cleared his throat loudly, snapping me out of my reverie. He looked at me expectantly.

"I know you were momentarily stunned by my handsomeness—" I snickered, causing him to frown before continuing, "—but could you just introduce yourself already?" he asked.

I grinned sheepishly, scratching the back of my head nervously, trying to think of what to say. After a moment of thinking, I snapped my fingers, grinning.

"I'm Tor LaVaile, soon-to-be Grade 11 student, music lover, seamstress, artist, and your new… _tentative_ friend."

The biggest grin spread across Axel's face, and I couldn't help but grin wider in response. Of course, the moment was promptly interrupted by the car door behind me being flung open and a pair of familiar arms being wrapped around my embarrassingly small chest.

"TOR!! Zexion is sexually harassing me!" Demyx cried loudly from next to my ear. "Make him stop!"

The corners of my lips twitched, but I voiced my response without missing a beat.

"Demyx, in case you haven't realized, _you_ are sexually harassing _me_ right now, and _I _am your _sister_. Kindly remove your arms from my chest, please," I said coldly.

"NO! Never!" he cried stubbornly.

I sighed. I really wish I didn't have to resort to this…

"I'll make more chocolate parfaits when we get home if you do," I said, trying to bribe him into doing what I wanted him to… which almost always works.

"YES! I'll hold you to it," Demyx gloated, finally releasing his grip on me.

'_Thank goodness.'_

What happened next was a sudden rush of everyone climing into the spots in the car that they'd occupied on the drive in. Axel climbed out of the back seat and got in the driver's seat, Dem got in the passenger's seat, Roxas took the spot Axel had vacated, and Zexion shoved me over into the middle seat once again so that he could have his spot back. As everyone buckled up in preparation to leave, I turned to Zexion, hesitating before speaking in a low voice.

"Um… look, Zexion, I'm sorry about what I said… and how I acted, back there… so…"

"Don't worry about it," he said with the smallest of smiles on his face. "All's forgiven."

I grinned in relief. _'Well, that's a load off my chest.'_

"Where to, Tor?" Axel asked as he started the car, pulling out of the parking spot he'd parked in right close to the arcade.

I glanced over at Zexion; he was looking out the window. I knew he said he'd forgiven me, but I wanted to try and get on pleasant terms with him again; such a desire made me choose the place I did for our next destination point.

"Corral Center," I instructed the flamehead, grinning evilly as I muttered under my breath, "Watch out, Wal-Mart… _here we come_."

--

**A/N:** Wow, I look at that ending again, and Tor seems sort of out of character when she's acting evil... uu But on another note, I am SO SORRY that this chapter is five days later than I said it would be! I promise I won't be late for a self-set deadline again; if I end up not being able to do it because of unexpected circumstances, I will say so in an edit of the chapter or something to let you all know. v.v But I hope it doesn't happen anyways.

On yet another note, thank you to **talim440**, **Persion**, and **Dude-Rawk** for their lovely reviews on chapter 6, and to **Talon83** for being ticked enough that I didn't update on time as to forcefully demand that I update (which subsequently guilted/scared me into doing so :D). As a thank you, I made this chapter longer than the norm - 3,584 words without the A/N, and 8 pages long. I hope you enjoyed it! Also, go to my profile for a link to my illustration of Tor on my deviantart account. :)

Shiny... purple button... must... push...


	8. The Zexy Factor

(**Note:** Yes, this chapter will explain why Demyx says Zexion molested him. I won't make you use your imaginations.)

--

"What's your favorite color?" I asked Zexion as we waited at yet another stoplight, waiting for it to turn _green_, already. I was bored out of my mind, and curious about the quiet boy who was going to become my brother-in-law, so now I'' begun to ask him random questions that popped into my head, deciding to file his answers away in my mind for future reference.

He seemed to ponder that for a moment before answering, "Midnight blue."

That sparked my curiosity. Why did he have to think about it? Was there some deep, well-thought-out reason he'd said it was his favorite?

"Why?" I blurted out before I could think of the possible repercussions; I didn't want Zexion thinking I was some nosy little girl who couldn't stop asking people questions she had no right to ask. I promptly pressed my lips firmly together so no more stupid words could escape them. Thankfully, Zexion just shifted in his seat so as to be able to read my expression without having to crane his neck. As his eyes searched my face, his expression seemed… amused? He turned away to look out the window again, and I could've sworn I heard him mutter "Curiosity killed the cat" under his breath.

I pursed my lips. _'Fine then; be that way,'_ I thought, slightly miffed. I leaned my head back on the back of the seat and watched as the light finally turned green, sensing the silence creep over all of us yet again, encroaching on us as mine and Zexion's short-lived conversation died a premature death. I almost had a heart attack when Zexion broke the silence by speaking again, very quietly; I had a bit of trouble hearing what he was saying, so I leaned closer out of my undying curiosity, wanting to hear what he was saying.

"Someone… once told me that my eyes reminded them of the ocean at night," he said, causing me to glance at his one visible eye, as the other one that was covered by his long bangs was facing out the window. I realized for the first time that they were actually a very deep blue—from far away, or at a glance, they seemed to be black, but I could see now that that was not the case at all. "They said my eyes reminded them of that… because they were dark and quiet, but still deep and full of life." The corner of his lips twitched upward in a half-smile. "I told them they were on crack."

I couldn't help but snort—I'd never heard Zexion try to be funny before. Of course, my (rather loud) snort in turn caused everyone to give me either a weird look (Roxas and Demyx) or an amused look (Axel and Zexion… though, of course, Axel's was only a quick glance at me in the rearview mirror). I silently thanked the heavens we were just turning into the Corral Center's (rather hectic and stupidly-arranged) parking lot, and as soon as we found a parking space close to the Wal-Mart, I quickly undid my seatbelt and slid out the right side of the car after Zexion, leaping on his unprotected back as soon as we were both out and latching onto his neck in what I hoped was an unyielding iron grip. Unfortunately, I don't think it was, because all he did was sigh exasperatedly.

"What?" he asked bluntly, as monotone as could be. Hmph. I would've thought my intention clear through my actions; nevertheless.

"Um… piggyback?" I asked hopefully. I could almost feel the annoyed aura rolling off of him, even though I couldn't see his face from the position I was in.

Zexion sighed irritably once again. "You're just going to keep bugging me until I give you one, aren't you," he more stated than asked.

"Hmm," I pretended to think about it for a moment, then said, "Yup. Pretty much!" I grinned cheekily, even though he couldn't see it. I let out a squeak when all of a sudden my legs were swept out from beneath me, and then Zexion was giving me a piggyback, speed-walking to catch up with Axel, Roxas, and Demyx, who were just reaching the crosswalk in front of the store. It was only then that I realized they'd gone on ahead of us when I'd started pestering Zexion for a ride, lazy arse that I was. We caught up to the rest of the guys on the other side of the crosswalk. Demyx took one look at me and sighed.

"Tor, quit bugging my molester," he said in a scolding tone.

I sniffed indignantly. Weirdly enough, when I did, I caught a whiff of something that smelled delicious, and, somehow, familiar. Curiously, I sniffed Zexion's hair. I grinned.

"Hey Zexy, you use the same shampoo as me!" I stated gleefully. I promptly found myself landing hard on my butt on the pavement. Good thing I hadn't said that while we were still on the crosswalk, where there was the chance someone wouldn't see me sitting in the road and would end up running me over with their car. I quickly stood up, dusting off the seat of my jeans. I glared at Zexion's retreating back as he entered the store, deciding that just for that, I was going to pester him some more. The other guys were getting weird looks from the other people entering the store because they were laughing at the newfound discovery that Zexion used a girls' shampoo, as well as the "cutesy" nickname I'd slapped him with and Zexion's cruel and unusual punishment for my happy observation. I quickly entered the store, keeping Zexion in my sight while pretending not to know the Three Stooges still cackling outside the doors.

By the time I caught up to Zexion, he was at the CD and Electronics section, half-way through the store. I quickly went to walk beside him as he began perusing the CDs, commencing 'Operation: Annoy Zexion'.

"Sooo… _Zexy_," I said, noticing him stiffen minutely. "Why _is_ Dem saying you sexually harassed him?"

Okay, I admit; I was genuinely curious about this. Despite the fact that his hair smelled of coconut and _lavender_, for goodness' sake, I did not automatically write him off as some gay perv. There _had_ to be a logical explanation behind why Demyx said Zexion "molested" him. Demyx was usually one to jump to conclusions and only relinquish his stubborn belief that they were the truth when shown solid evidence that disproved them. So, I assumed, there was likely evidence to disprove it; it likely just wasn't solid enough to satisfy Demyx.

Zexion fixed me with a venomous glare. "First off, do _not_ call me that in public," he ground out through gritted teeth, then continued on to say, "and I _didn't_ molest him."

"I _thought_ not," I sang. He simply rolled his eyes.

"Are you going to let me explain or not?" he asked flatly. Boy, he must be pissed off at me. I decided not to push my luck any further; I quickly made the motion of zipping my lips shut.

"Good. Now, as I was saying," he said, picking up a My Chemical Romance CD and examining it as he spoke. "When I was getting off the DDR platform, I… _tripped_," he seemed rather reluctant to admit, "and Demyx was right there, facing away from me and talking to Roxas, and I… accidentally… touched his… _anus_," he said haltingly. I wondered amusedly if he said "anus" because he was hoping I wouldn't understand the term, or because he couldn't bring himself to straight-out say that he touched Dem's ass. It was probably the latter.

"What about you?" he surprised me by asking. I was utterly confused by this.

"What _about_ me?" I shot back.

Zexion shrugged, then gained a thoughtful look, as if he were trying to think of a way to word something. "Well, you've been acting… _strangely_ at certain points of the day today.

"Like… you're trying to be someone you're not."

I bristled, immediately feeling what the reasonable part of me knew was unwarranted hostility towards the black-haired boy, but I tried to force it back even as my face shut down.

"Oh, yeah? And what makes you say that?"

Unfortunately, I don't think he was that easily fooled, as his calculating eyes searched my nonexistent expression. His dark eyes narrowed fractionally.

"From what I've seen of you thus far, I don't particularly believe you are one to randomly demand piggybacks from people you've hardly known for two days, future relative or no," he said in a clipped tone. There was a tense moment of silence as he waited for me to speak, and I stubbornly refused to. He didn't wait for long before concluding that I'd deemed fit not to answer. He sighed exasperatedly and spoke once again in my stead. "So who is it you're trying to replace? Is it that girl—Pam, was it?—that moved a few days ago?" he said in a calm, almost dismissive tone. Something in me snapped.

"That's _Sam_," I snarled. It was at that point that I was glad we were speaking quietly, or else all the rest of the people in the entire CD and Electronics section would've probably been listening in on our conversation.

Zexion smirked. "So that _is_ who you were trying to replace."

Oh, that sneaky boy! He was playing with my mind to get his answer! I was rightfully ticked off now, but I had to give him kudos for being able to trick me into giving him his answer so flawlessly.

"…Well-played," I stated somewhat grudgingly. He just shrugged, and I realized that there were probably many more well-thought-out tricks where that one came from… In other words, he'd eventually get any information out of me that he darn well pleased, so I might as well tell him my reasoning behind trying to replace Sam _now_.

"…Look, Zexion, I… don't exactly feel comfortable talking about this, but… I'll summarize for you," I said. I didn't want to spill my guts to the black-haired boy and start blubbering in the middle of Wal-Mart, after all. He motioned for me to proceed, so, taking a deep breath to calm myself and trying to detach myself from my emotions towards the subject temporarily, I did.

"When Sam left, I missed her a _lot_—she was my best friend, after all, and my only one, aside from Demyx. But… she proved that she doesn't miss me anywhere near as much as I miss her. She's forgetting about me already, but I still miss her more than I could begin to describe, even though," I grimaced, "the feeling isn't mutual. So I'd rather try and pretend as if she were still here than accept the truth." The burning of tears behind my eyes alerted me to the fact that I was getting too emotional, so I closed my eyes. "I already tried accepting it once, but…" I thought of how I'd started cutting again. Sam hadn't been the primary reason why I'd done it, but she'd been one of the major contributing factors in it. I couldn't tell Zexion all that, of course, but I had to finish my sentence now, because as I opened my eyes, his were locked on mine with a serious, intense stare. I smiled bitterly. "Let's just say it didn't work as well as it could've," I stated cryptically.

_'Let's see you manipulate THAT out of me, bitch,'_ I thought before turning to look at the suddenly extremely interesting large shelving unit stocked with a large variety of CDs. I quickly went to the R's, a little ways away from where Zexion seemed rooted to the ground. I didn't dare look back at him; for fear of what, I'm not quite sure myself. I quickly found the CD by The Rasmus—my favorite band of all time—that I didn't have yet. My elation over finding it was quickly squashed when Zexion spoke again.

"What do you mean—"

"Tor! Zexion! There you guys are!"

I don't think I had ever been so happy to hear my brother's voice before. However, I quickly schooled my expression, so as not to give Zexion any reason to be more suspicious of me than he already was. Mind you, it probably wouldn't have made much of a difference anyways, what with the way he was glaring at me, his eyes narrow slits. I quickly zipped around him to get to Demyx, half-listening as my brother spoke to me about how he, Axel, and Roxas had all split up and the CD section was the fourth place he'd looked in while trying to find me. He quickly ran off topic, as he sometimes tended to do, and I was glad for the distraction from my worry that Zexion would be trying to find out what I was hiding now. It was not a pretty thought, needless to say; from what I'd seen, he was _very_ smart and observant. I quickly distracted myself as my thoughts wandered back to that fact by dragging Demyx to the grocery section of the store and quizzing him on what he wanted for supper all that week. We made quick work of the entire week's groceries (Dem had to run and get a cart after the first five minutes), running into Axel and Roxas in the drinks aisle. Zexion joined us soon after, but remained silent; I gladly returned the favor.

As Demyx bought the groceries, and everyone else made their own purchases (which were much fewer than Demyx's and mine), I quickly raced to the Fabrics section, remembering the promise I had made to Zexion in order to persuade him to come. I hastily grabbed a white acrylic paint marker and a metallic silver one before racing over to the Men's section and grabbing a plain black t-shirt before zipping over to the express checkout lane, grabbing five bottles of Diet Lipton Green Tea with Citrus (my favorite drink in the entire planet) on my way through. I always did like the express lane, because it was just so much _faster_ than the regular lanes.

Yes, I'm impatient. So sue me.

Wait… pretend I didn't say that last part.

…Anyways. I was sad when I had to say goodbye to most of the only twenty dollars that I'd had (aside from the ten I'd spent at Ruckers) in my purse when Axel had come along and dragged me off to Brandon before even _asking_ if I'd wanted to come, because of how much the acrylic paint markers cost; even though there were only two of them, they still cost almost as much as the shirt.

_'Stop thinking like that!'_ I scolded myself as I collected my bag and headed over to the guys, who were all squished on a hard metal bench opposite the wall where the washrooms and the ATM were, beside where the express checkout lane ended. _'You and Axel are _friends_ now. F-R-I-E-N-D-S. Got it memorized? And besides, you know you wanted to come in to Brandon.'_

I raised an eyebrow at the guys as I reached them; they were all focused on the PSP Roxas was playing a game called Patapon on; I'd heard about it from Sam a couple months ago, but I'd never played it myself. Apparently, it was very addicting. Unfortunately, this also meant that none of the guys even looked up when I approached, making me feel very left out, and, surprisingly enough, bitter and angry, though I couldn't for the life of me figure out why. I had never liked being the center of attention—in fact, I'd tended to shy _away_ from the limelight—so why did I feel so bitter and angry now that none of them were paying me a speck of attention? Had I gotten so used to them trying so hard to involve me in their activities over the past couple of days that I'd grown out of my shy old habits already? I decided not; I was likely just angry because they weren't involving me in the game.

_'But isn't that basically the same thing?'_ the rational voice in the back of my mind piped up. I quickly silenced it and spoke.

"What, do I have to dance to get your attention?" I asked, voice thick with sarcasm. Demyx jumped, but the rest of them just looked startled… well, all of them, that is, except for Zexion. But he doesn't count, because I am utterly convinced that he is a ninja, so he probably heard me coming a mile away and just chose not to say anything. In other words, he was probably just ignoring me.

…Stupid ninja.

"Aaanyways," I said, promptly breaking off of my inner Zexion-bashing rant, "are we going home now, or what?"

Axel blinked. "Eh…sure. It's…" he trailed off, quickly checking his watch, which was on a very tasteful black leather strap with silver metal studs, and which I immediately liked, before continuing on to say, "11:47 AM, so all you guys can snack on the two big bags of chips I bought on the way back to tide you over until we get back to Tor and Demyx's house." He grinned at me. "And you can have some, too, if you don't sleep all the way back, _Aurora_," he said teasingly, but what he said last confounded me. It took me a moment to clue in, and by the time I did, the guys had all stood up, Roxas had shut off his PSP, and they had all started for the doors.

"Sleeping Beauty slept for a lot longer than half an hour, bloody idiot," I yelled at Axel before moving to catch up with the rest of the gang. Axel was truly lucky that I was inevitably going to fall asleep on the ride back, or else I never would've let him hear the end of it.

--

**A/N: **Yeah, sorry if it seems like it has a rushed ending (it kind of does), because I found out I had to post this chapter TODAY instead of tomorrow, because this afternoon I'm leaving on vacation and I won't be back for two weeks, and I have no idea if I'll have internet access tomorrow. So here you go—one day early.  Hope you enjoyed it! And I plan to have the next chapter up by July 19th, so have fun with this one until then.

Also, a HUGE thank you to all who reviewed the last chapter—**Talon83**, **Dude-Rawk**, **Elle Steinig**, and **talim440**. And a huge thank you to the people who added this story to their story alerts list and their favorite stories list! I give you all the gift of ghost-cookies!

I hope to see you all next chapter! 

(P.S., yes… that is one mighty fine button… press, please?)


	9. Not Quite A Clean Break

A/N: Thank you ALL for being so patient with me

**A/N:** Thank you ALL for being so patient with me! (And NOT attempting to stab me with rusty kitchen knives, bludgeon me with anvils, smother me with gigantic feather dusters… etc., etc.) I give you all cranberry muffins as a token of my appreciation! (But not really, because that'd be kinda creepy… and not to mention, _impossible_.) Once again, special thanks goes to my lovely **reviewers** for the last chapter:

**Elle Steinig**, **talim440**, **Dude-Rawk**, and **Talon83**.

(Oh, and just a note to **talim440**—I did the math. The '97 Dodge Neon gets about 35 miles to the gallon, and it's 60 miles to and from Brandon to Strathmore in the story. So that's about 1.75 gallons, so at 6 dollars to the gallon, that equals about 10 dollars to go to AND from Brandon to Strathmore. So they didn't waste 20 dollars on gas; they only used half that amount.)

I present to you now, without further ado, THE longest chapter that I've made for this story yet—over 5,000 words (even _without_ this A/N)!! I will not be posting Chapter 10 until Thursday, August 7th (I would've said the 8th or 9th… but I really like the number 7 -sweatdrop-) because I'll be busy this week preparing for my anime convention (Ai-Kon) which is next weekend, soooo… this will have to tide you over until then. Bwahahaha.

--

A half-hour cat nap and everyone stealing a bottle of green tea from me later, we arrived at my house. (Yes, I know. Technically, it's my dad's, not mine. But hey, details—who needs 'em?)

Everyone piled out of the car as I stretched my arms over my head as well as the car roof would allow before undoing my seatbelt and grabbing my Wal-Mart bag, exiting the car, not even bothering to rush to catch up to everyone else, as they were all entering the house already, with Demyx in the lead. I trusted Demyx enough not to let them burn down the house in the minute or so it would take me to catch up with them, so I took my time in going inside and taking my shoes off, even taking the time to take my bag up to my room. As I exited my room, I firmly closed the door behind me, taking my key out of my right jeans pocket that I used whenever I wanted to lock my door from the outside and locking my door—once again very grateful for the invention of locks—before going back down to join the gang as they sat around the kitchen table, talking and laughing. I was furious at myself when I felt a pang of jealousy that they could get along with each other so well when I always seemed to be messing up my relationships with people, like I had with Zexion. However, I didn't want to arouse suspicion by going back upstairs to cut myself, so I took out my anger at myself by clenching my right hand into a fist, feeling my nails dig into my palm as I went over the bags of groceries Demyx had brought in.

"Is macaroni and cheese with wieners okay for everyone?" I asked, receiving a chorus of "yeahs" in return. I quickly set to taking out the boxes of Kraft Dinner I'd gotten Demyx to buy at Wal-Mart, and was about to take the third box out of the bag when I had to do a double take.

There _was_ no third box.

I didn't have to do a head count to realize that this would not be enough to feed everyone, as Demyx and I could polish off two boxes' worth of KD on any given day just by ourselves. And even if I fed them all hot dogs with just KD on the side instead of chopping up a couple wieners and throwing them in with the mac 'n' cheese, that would end up throwing off my meal plan for the week—and I lived by my weekly meal plans resolutely. I quickly tossed the idea of feeding everyone here out the window.

"Change of plans. I'm going to Tastee's—you're all more than welcome to come with me if you like," I said, putting all the perishable food items in the fridge before grabbing my purse off the counter and slinging it across my body, ready to head out for the second time that day.

"Is it your treat?" Demyx asked, grinning like a little kid. I pursed my lips, remembering that I had spent all my cash, so now all I had was the money on the debit card dad had all but given me a couple years ago to help "teach me responsibility"—a.k.a., get me to stop pestering him every time I needed money for groceries and other necessities (like…umm…socks). However, I was always reluctant to use money from the debit card, lest dad yank it because I "didn't use it sensibly". However, I reasoned, I could afford to splurge on the gang… just this once.

"…Fine," I muttered with obvious reluctance, causing Demyx to whoop from utter glee and excitement.

"YES!" He said before racing out of the kitchen, heading to the porch to, presumably, throw a pair of shoes on before leaving. I was rooted to the floor in shock and surprise. Why was Dem so pumped for Tastee's? This was the third time we'd gone in the past four days. One would've thought he'd have started to get sick of the place by now, but apparently, it would seem he had not. I shook my head to clear it of the surprised stupor that clung to my brain before starting after Dem, pausing in the kitchen entryway to look back at Roxas, Axel, and Zexion, who were all just standing from their seats at the kitchen table. I raised an eyebrow at them.

"Hurry up, you old bags," I said, smirking. "I'm getting old waiting for you!" I smiled innocently as Axel gave me a dirty look before flipping me off, purposely "forgetting" to push his chair in. I rolled my eyes (though I _was_ kinda ticked he didn't push his chair in—it's a pet peeve of mine), heading out to join Dem in the porch and put my shoes on before our happy little group made its merry way to Tastee's to ravage and pillage the unwitting townsfolk.

…Okay, so maybe that's stretching the truth a bit.

But we _were_ likely to cause more than a little unrest. I mean, really; how often do you get a group of teenagers who _actually_ act civilly in public?

Not that I really care, but anyways.

It didn't take long for us to reach Tastee's, seeing as we only lived a few blocks from the lovely eatery. (I know—_score_!) In my big sweater and jeans, it didn't take long for me to start to perspire in the warm summer sun, either though. That was the only thing I didn't like about my clothing of choice, but I couldn't wear more revealing clothes even if I wanted to, lest I reveal all the scars I'd made over this latest cutting jag and my last one, months ago. Besides, I'd rather have pale skin than a tan, like lots of "sporty" girls have. So really, the sweating was the only downside for me. Nevertheless, when we walked into Tastee's and the cool, air-conditioned air hit me in a brief blast, I almost let out a loud, contented sigh. However, I managed to withhold it, instead settling for a contented look. The whole gang rushed to order their food, and I placed my order as well, reluctantly taking out my debit card and paying for everyone's food with it. I could just see dad yelling at me now for paying such a large amount of money for something that, technically, wasn't a "necessity".

I was glad to find when I went to sit down that the guys had chosen one of the corner booths, so we could all sit down at one table. However, the actual booth seat was filled completely by the other four, so I dragged a slightly screechy metal chair over to the table and sat on the side facing everyone else. Having nothing better to do, I looked around the restaurant, seeing that it wasn't very busy for being a Monday at 12:30pm when it was already summer vacation. There was only a booth with two elderly couples eating and chatting away while seated in it, and a young mother in a booth not far from them, trying to feed a grouchy three- or four-year-old boy; that was it for other customers. However, as I was looking around, a vaguely familiar-looking pink-haired older teen walked into the restaurant. I quickly leaned forward on the table towards Demyx, who was on the farthest right part of the booth, next to Axel; he quickly noticed and copied my actions.

"What?" he whispered lowly as Axel argued with Zexion about something over Roxas' head, as he was sitting between the two; he looked miffed about that, but wasn't making any remarks about it.

"Who's that at the counter?" I said, glancing at the pink-haired teen as I spoke quietly. "It's on the tip of my tongue… Murr… um, Mar…"

Demyx shook with silent laughter as he covered his mouth with the back of his hand for a moment.

I pouted. "What?" I didn't think I'd said anything particularly funny.

Demyx shook his head, uncovering his mouth to whisper back, "_Marluxia_."

It suddenly clicked, like a final puzzle piece had fallen into place. "That's…" I trailed off, my look of realization speaking the words that I didn't. _'That's the dude that Zexion's friends with!'_

Dem nodded, grinning lopsidedly. "Yup."

I didn't really think about what I did next; I was curious about this older boy who Zexion seemed to have deemed worthy of his time. He was just turning to look for a booth, and I realized that he had come to the restaurant all alone. Once again, I really was not thinking about my actions and the possible repercussions of them at this point.

"Hey, Marluxia!" I called across the mostly-deserted establishment, fighting the embarrassed blush that threatened to rise to my cheeks as I felt _all_ the people in the building's' eyes focus on me. I quickly waved Marluxia over, despite the weird look he was giving me. I really deserved it, I realize, seeing as I'd never talked to the guy before, and yet, here I am, calling him over to me and my friends' table in a near-empty restaurant.

I mean, seriously. If I were him, I'd probably be seriously creeped out about now.

"Yes?" he asked simply upon arriving at our table, one eyebrow raised.

I shrugged. "You're not waiting to meet someone, are you?" I asked.

The eyebrow rose higher. "No. Why?"

I grinned. "Well, why don't you sit with us, then?"

"…I don't even know you," he stated, as if it weren't already obvious.

I feigned a hurt look. "So you don't want to _get_ to know me?"

Demyx snorted. I glared at him.

Marluxia's eyes appraised my company, and I noticed his other eyebrow shoot up to join the other one as he locked eyes with Zexion, who had his elbow propped up on the table and his chin resting in the palm of his hand. Zexion just shrugged. Marluxia switched his gaze back to me.

"… All right," he conceded, fetching another screechy metal chair for himself to sit down on next to me.

I smiled, pleased to make a new acquaintance. I was elated as I realized that not only was I sitting with my dear brother, but I was also sitting with four new acquaintances that I was, for the most part, on decent terms with, even if they did seem to get along better with each other than they did with me. The biggest number of friendly acquaintances I'd ever sat with at a given time before now (aside from my family when they all came out for Christmas last year) was three, when I used to eat lunch with Sam, Demyx, and Larxene two years ago, before Larxene moved to Brandon and became as much of a popular bitch as she was now. My good spirits deflated a bit at the thought of Sam, as losing her was still a fresh wound in both my heart and my mind. A small spark of anger ignited in me towards Larxene, as well, for how she had completely betrayed Sam and I after she moved.

However, I was not allowed to dwell on my anger for long, as my favorite waiter appeared at our table at that moment, balancing a large tray filled with plates of mouth-watering food effortlessly. I was always amazed by how he balanced the heavy tray with _one hand_, for crying out loud, while he placed each dish in front of the person who ordered it, and it boggled my mind yet again as he did so. However, as he placed the last plate—having a clubhouse sandwich and fries on it—in front of me, I shook my head to clear the stupor from my mind and held my fist out to the waiter, grinning.

"Elaeus, my man!" I said to the large bear of a man, just like I did every other time I saw him. "Pound it!"

That was a mistake.

"Ahh! Ow!" I said, shaking my hand that was now throbbing in pain.

Elaeus chuckled. "I thought you would've learned not to do that by now."

I scowled. "Well, it's not _my_ fault I keep forgetting how strong you are!"

"Technically speaking, yes, it would be," Axel said, grinning. He was laughing at my pain! '_That dirty, rotten, no-good scoundrel…'_ I thought, giving him the dirtiest look I could manage. He looked away, whistling innocently.

I started when something cold hit me in the side of the head, instinctively catching it with my right hand and hissing in pain as a fresh wave of pain traveled through it as I did. I looked at the object as I shifted it over to my yet-unharmed left hand. My eyebrow twitched.

"Were you carrying this cold compress around because you saw me coming in?" I demanded of Elaeus, irritated.

He shrugged, smirking a bit. "Your forgetfulness gets to be very predictable after a while," he explained.

"Gee, thanks," I muttered sarcastically. Elaeus ignored my remark, turning to Marluxia, the only person who didn't have food yet, as he'd arrived after the rest of us.

"I'll be right back with your food," he stated simply before retreating into the kitchen again. I placed the cold compress to my sore hand as soon as he was gone. It felt like I was admitting defeat. I hate losing.

"Yes!" Demyx said. I could practically _hear_ him salivating over his food. "Dig in 'til you stick out!" He exclaimed enthusiastically, practically inhaling his fries after saying it. I suddenly realized just how hungry I really was, and promptly fell on my food, as well. It was gone in a matter of minutes, and when it was, I wasn't surprised to see that I was the first one finished. Marluxia and Zexion both had hardly even _started_ their food.

"Tor."

I jumped, clapping a hand over my heard as it pounded against my ribcage from the sudden scare. I turned in my seat to give the culprit—Elaeus—a lethal glare, but he didn't even flinch. …Not that ever did, but that's besides the point.

"What?" I asked, frowning. I knew it was serious, however, at his next words.

"I've got someone on the phone for you," he said, holding out his cell phone to me.

I was stunned. From what I knew, Elaeus almost _never_ gave his cell number to anyone. I had only managed to squeeze it out of him a couple months ago, and I'd known the guy for more than five years now. As far as I knew, only two people other than me knew Elaeus' cell number. One of them was my dad, and we had a mutual agreement: Demyx and I didn't phone him at work, and he didn't phone Dem and I from work. Ever. This fact caused a sinking suspicion to set in that it was the only other person that I knew has possession of Elaeus' number. I quickly grabbed the seemingly innocent phone from his large hand, wanting to get the impending conversation over with as quickly as possible.

"I think you should take it somewhere they can't listen in," he muttered quietly enough so the rest of the gang wouldn't hear what he had said. I nodded, glancing briefly at Demyx, who looked baffled at this turn in events, before taking the phone to the one-person washroom Tastee's had, closing and locking the heavy door behind me. I took a deep breath to calm myself before raising the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked in a cool, detached voice. There was a slight pause before the voice I'd yearned to hear again for years—and yet utterly despised at the same time—spoke.

"Tor?" My mother said. There was quiet, relieved laughter from the lady on the other end, which caused my blood to boil, but I forced myself to take a few more deep, calming breaths. Finally, as I got my temper back in check, she spoke again. "Tor, hun, you won't believe it! I'm back in town again! I want you to meet my boyfriend. Are you free to come home, or are you hanging out with Sam, Larxene, and Demyx again?"

I immediately went into shut-down mode. Here she was, my mother, calling me up after over four years of not contacting me, my dad, or Demyx, and she thinks everything will be fine and dandy, just the way she left it, as though she'd only been gone for a few minutes. Now, about not contacting us: I could understand her not contacting Demyx; she'd always treated him with infuriating indifference while doting on me. But as she'd always doted on me, I really hadn't the foggiest why she hadn't bothered keeping in touch with me, if she was just going to barge back into my life all these years later, anyhow.

"…Tor?" she asked, sounding a bit hesitant now.

I clenched my teeth, but managed to ground out, "I'll meet you at the house. Goodbye." I quickly snapped the phone shut, ending the call before my mother had a chance to put me in a fouler mood than I was already in by opening her big, fat mouth again.

I quickly exited the bathroom and handed the cell phone I now loathed to Elaeus, who was waiting outside the bathroom for me to be done with it. He spared me a sympathetic look, but didn't bother with words; he knew me well enough by now to know I'd likely bite his head off if he said something that even _remotely_ rubbed me the wrong way when I was already seething like I was right now. I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to release all the pent-up anger from my body with one loud, exasperated sigh.

This was not going to be easy.

A glance over at the table we'd all been sitting at revealed the fact that everyone was outright staring at me. I quickly turned my back on them, grabbing Elaeus broad, muscled shoulder before he retreated to the kitchen once again. He raised an eyebrow in silent question.

"Umm…" I couldn't meet his eyes; I felt bad about what I was about to ask. "Could you… not tell them who called?" I asked. "Any of them?" _Especially Demyx?_

The large man nodded in understanding, and I felt shame and guilt course through me at the same time the relief did. I'd just asked him to help me keep a secret from my brother, whom I loved so dearly, and I couldn't help but feel horrible about it.

'_Destructive secret number two,'_ the voice in my head pointed out, only succeeding in making me feel even worse. I quickly released Elaeus' shoulder, turning back to the gang and waving Roxas over, as he was still watching me, brow furrowed as he bit one of his nails. Zexion smoothly slid out of the booth to let Roxas out before sitting back down, his calculating gaze seeming to pierce straight through my soul. As soon as Roxas reached my side, I quickly dragged him outside, out of sight and hearing range, throwing a venomous glare back at Axel before we exited the building entirely, as he looked to be about to get up and follow us.

I sat down on the bench around the corner of the building from where the entrance was, motioning for Roxas to sit as well. He did so silently, even though it looked as though he were dying to ask why I'd called him out away from the others, so I decided to answer his unasked question as soon as he'd settled himself on the bench next to me.

"…I…"

I hesitated. I felt so _bad_ bringing Roxas into this, too, but he was the one I trusted the most out of the current group I was with, so I had to ask him for his help and simply hope he wouldn't ask too many questions that I didn't have time to answer right now. So, despite feeling bad, I forged ahead, knowing that things would be better this way, if Demyx never knew the mother whom he'd given his unrequited love had come back and hadn't even asked to see him. I gained a determined look.

"I want you to keep everyone from coming to my house, Rox," I said, adopting one of Axel's nickname for the blond boy. I quickly glanced at my watch; 1:01 PM. "I need you to keep them away until about 2:00 PM. Can you do that?"

Roxas visibly hesitated before replying.

"Tor…" He sighed. "Do you promise you'll explain why you're having me do this later?" he asked.

I could've actually kissed him, I felt so relieved and happy at that moment. I settled for enveloping him in a quick hug before standing, not giving him a chance to hug me back. I gave him a quick grin.

"I promise. You're a peach, Rox," I said, turning on my heel to head off in the direction of my house.

As I walked, the relief slowly but surely ebbed away, being replaced by dread with every step I took. I was sorely tempted to run back to Tastee's and laugh and joke with the gang—to just forget that mom had ever called, even. But a few moments later, the house came into view, and I knew it was too late for me to turn back.

As I approached, I saw the familiar figure of my slim, blonde mother standing close to a fairly young-looking man with silver hair and dark, tanned skin. She was smiling and laughing, I presume at something the man had said, as the man had a small smirk on his face, arms crossed over his chest. He looked to be slightly younger than my mother, who would be turning thirty-seven this fall. Any passersby would say that both my mom and her boyfriend were beautiful, thus they made a lovely couple. I, too, thought they seemed a good couple, but the utter _loathing_ that I felt towards my mother allowed me to see her as nothing but ugly. Thus, since this man was presumably romantically attached to such an ugly woman, I could think of him as nothing but ugly, either. I made my way quickly toward them, wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.

A look of pure joy lit up my mother's face, and she rushed towards me to envelop me in a bone-crushing hug.

"Tor!" she exclaimed. "I missed you so much, hun!"

I simply stood, allowing the woman—whom I'd yearned to see for so long, but grown to hate for not caring enough to at least keep in touch—to hug me, not allowing my hands to move to embrace her back, as they instinctively wished to do.

No. My mother was dead to me.

The moment she removed her arms from around my shoulders, I fired off the question that I had been burning to ask her since the moment she'd said she was in town:

"Why are you here?"

I took care to sound totally detached from all the emotions that were swirling through me at that moment: rage, hate, sadness, wistfulness, and longing for both her to come back to stay and the courage to physically hurt her for the hurt she'd caused the rest of us—her family.

Mother laughed her pretty, high, tinkly laughter. It wounded worse than a frog's croaking to my ears.

"You always were so blunt, weren't you?" She smiled, turning to wave the silver-haired man over. When he arrived at her side, she grabbed my right hand and his and stuck them together. "Tor, this is Xehanort… Xehanort, Tor."

I had the sudden urge to spit on his hand. The somewhat fake-looking smile he wore wasn't helping me restrain myself from doing so, either. I quickly dropped his hand so I wouldn't give in to temptation. I knew right away that I would not even be able to pretend to be friendly towards this fake, orange-eyed man. Up close, I could tell that the reason his smile looked fake was because the smile died long before it could reach those emotionless orange eyes.

"Tor…" mother said, drawing my attention back to her once again. "Come live with us!" she said so quickly, I wasn't sure I'd heard her right.

I blinked.

"Umm… Could you repeat that, please?" I said. _'Please say I heard her wrong.'_

"Come live with us," she repeated, a bit slower this time, adding, "please," as an afterthought.

'_Oh, no, she didn't.'_ I immediately felt my temper flare to an all-time high.

"_You!_" I had to fight to keep from screaming as I prepared to tear a strip off my now wide-eyed mother. "You leave for _four years_ without _any_ contact, and you think you can just waltz back in here like you _own_ the damn place and ask me to come and_ live with you!?_ Well, _shit!_ Why don't we go to fucking _Disney World_, while we're at it?!" I exclaimed, voice dripping with acid and sarcasm.

Mother looked heartbroken. "Tor, I just—"

"No," I cut her off in a low, dangerous tone. "I don't want to hear what you have to say. Even if you really did care for me, you betrayed dad's trust on _countless_ occasions, and you never even paid _attention_ to Demyx—all he wanted was your _approval_, dammit!" I hissed, narrowing my eyes at her out of anger.

"Get off my property." I turned my back on her before the tears could start flowing down her cheeks. "You were dead to me the day you left us."

I wished that she would hit me, or that Xehanort would, or that someone, _anyone_, would retaliate with violence toward me for what I'd just said. But nothing came but the choked sound of my mother's sobs as I beat a hasty retreat to the house. Mother made no move to come after me, and no sound even came from Xehanort as I breezed past him and entered the house, slamming and locking the door behind me. I immediately felt any and all strength I'd had up until that point sap out of me, and I slumped against the door, sliding down it until I was seated on the floor.

'_A clean break always heals faster and better than a messy one,'_ the voice in my head stated matter-of-factly.

'_Yes, but how _clean_ could this break possibly be? My mother is out there in _tears_, and you say it's a _clean break_?'_ I thought back, enraged.

The voice tutted. _'I never said it was. I just said clean breaks heal better.'_ There was a brief pause as tears that I knew matched my mother's made their way silently down my cheeks. _'But even if it was a messy one, the break was necessary. Even if you continue hurting Demyx by keeping secrets from him, you're still here for him. If you were to go with your mother, however, you might as well rip out his still-beating heart from his chest and stomp it into the ground.'_

I stared at my knees for a moment before wiping my face with my sleeve, attempting to stop the flow of tears. I knew the voice was right; even if I was hurting Demyx on a daily basis, I was still _here_, and that was what mattered…right? I peeked out the porch window, but mom and her boyfriend—Xehanort, if I recalled correctly—were nowhere in sight. I felt a fresh stab of pain slice through me as I realized that this was most likely the last time I'd ever get to talk to my biological mother, and I'd broken her heart with my biting remarks.

I could no more stop or even slow the fresh batch of tears that poured from my eyes than people could've predicted the sinking of the Titanic. I quickly unlocked the door again before stumbling out of the porch and up the stairs, tripping a couple of times because of the tears badly blurring my vision. When I made it up, I flung open first the door to my room, and then the drawer of my vanity, beginning to sob as I pulled back the sleeve of my sweater, drew the razorblade from the back of the drawer, and made a deep slice across my wrist. I could feel the temporary high envelop me as the tears slowed to a halt and my sobs quieted. I stood there for a moment, just watching the blood flow, but it wasn't long until the little alarm bells started going off in my head.

'_Umm…isn't that blood flowing just a _little_ too quickly?'_ the voice in my head asked as the blood started soaking into my sleeve where it was bunched at the elbow and dripping onto the nice, cream-colored carpet, staining both things red in all the spots in managed to reach.

'_What are you doing just _standing_ there, you idiot!? Don't you remember the acrostic for bleeding wounds? R.E.D.—Rest, Elevation, and Direct pressure! Snap to it!'_ the voice yelled, but I was rooted to the spot where I was standing, my eyes glued on the cut that was oozing blood much too quickly to be healthy. My brain couldn't seem to get my legs to move. I was beginning to feel light-headed; I thought I heard the front door slam shut just as black dots crept across my vision, and al of a sudden I didn't know which way was up and which was down. I felt my body connect painfully with the ground, and then my vision went completely black. I could still hear, however, the sound of several pairs of feet rushing up the stairs.

"T…Tor?" I heard my brother say, sounding horrified. I could only imagine what a sight I was, my arm streaked with blood and a nasty gash on one wrist. I was vaguely aware of the fact that I'd still been gripping the razorblade in my other hand as I'd fallen, so there was likely a nasty slice in that palm, too.

"Tor!" Demyx exclaimed in a panicked voice, his footsteps rushing closer even as other footsteps approached my room. I wanted to hold him close and tell him everything was going to be all right, but I couldn't do anything; none of my body parts were responding like they were supposed to. I thought I got my fingers to twitch a bit, but I wasn't sure.

I heard a sharp intake of breath. "One of you, call an ambulance!" Demyx cried.

And then I heard nothing.


	10. Sammich in the Face

**A/N:** My sincerest apologies if anyone thinks this chapter is… lacking… something. Most of this was written between midnight and five a.m. this morning with nothing keeping me awake but a good mug of extremely strong green tea.

I really wanted to reply to everyone's reviews directly in the authoress' note this chapter, but I'm rushing off to the city to visit with my sister now (so much busier this summer than I thought I'd be!), so I don't have the time; I'm really sorry about that, everyone. But let it be known that I honestly appreciate every single review I get from you people a great deal!! So please keep them coming!!

And I'm sorry this chapter has a crappy cut-off point; I wasn't finished writing out the entire chapter, but it was long enough to fill my self-set quota already, and I really wanted to get this chapter out to you guys on the date I'd said I would. So… please enjoy it, even if it is cut off at a really weird, random spot!

--

I always hated waking up.

I almost wished I could just be stuck in a coma for a few months at a time sometimes, just so I could not have to wake up for a while. But then I realized that I'd still wake up in the end, anyways, so there was really no point in doing that.

I realized as my mind ever-so-slowly woke up that three things were different from usual, even with my eyes still closed:

One, there was sunlight filtering in from a window nearby, which could not be right, as I had the one and only bedroom without a window in our house.

Two, the mattress and pillow were much firmer than mine. Therefore, this supported the theory that I was not in my room at home.

And three, I was not holding the red velvet teddy bear—Shnookums, I'd named him, after my grandma's (on my dad's side) favorite nickname for me—that I'd gotten from my uncle (on my dad's side) for my eleventh birthday five years ago. Which really screamed, "You're not at home and you sure didn't plan on being here overnight," because I never, _ever_ went anywhere without Shnookums when I knew I'd be staying there overnight.

I cautiously cracked one eye open, before quickly shutting it again.

Never mind. The sun's too bright. Maybe I'll give it another go when it's dark out.

I shifted position so I was curled up on my left side, facing _away_ from the window. As I did so, I heard a sharp intake of breath from somewhere near the foot of my bed, and then footsteps approaching the side of the bed I was facing.

Whuh-oh.

I ever…so…_cautiously_… cracked one eye open to find an absolutely _furious_-looking Roxas towering over me. I quickly shut my eyes again. Maybe, with a little luck, he'd think I just shifted in my sleep? I really hoped so, because me and confrontation do not mix well at all. I mean, just look at what I did when I fought with my mom. I really do hate confrontation, because when I'm angry, I tend to say a lot of things I don't really mean to, and then I end up kicking myself afterwards.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem luck liked me very much. Maybe that's why I always lose at cards…

"I know you're awake. Sit up, Tor," Roxas said. I was kinda nervous, 'cuz he sounded pissed, and I'd never known him to get this mad before, so I wasn't sure what to expect. I slowly, hesitantly, gathered the starchy hospital sheets around my frame and raised myself to a sitting position. I studied Roxas' checkered wristband, not daring to look him in the eye. The only warning was the slight shift that happened beforehand.

All of a sudden, my right cheek exploded in pain and my head was snapped to the left, _painfully_. I was dumbfounded as I reached up to gently touch my trembling fingertips to my now throbbing cheek.

"Wha…?" I managed to mutter. Not exactly the most intelligent thing to say, I know, but I really couldn't whip up something better, as I was still shocked and astounded that _Roxas_, of all people, had actually _hit_ me… and _hard_!

I looked back at Roxas, wide-eyed, only to notice that his hands were both clenched into fists at his sides, and he was… trembling?

That shocked me even more than the slap had.

I warily looked up at his face, and got an even bigger shock than the slap and his trembling combined.

Roxas was about to _cry_.

"You…" his voice broke, and he rubbed furiously at his eyes before continuing on to say, "you total _bitch!_" I was offended, to say the least, but then he hauled me off the bed and into a giant bear hug, and I kinda forgave him. A bit. I mean, it really was stupid and cruel of me to slit my wrist, even if it did make me feel better for a moment or two. I should've realized how much it would hurt all my friends and family. "Do you _know_ how fricking _worried_ we all were!? And why would you even _do_ that to yourself?!"

Roxas' words really hit home. Why _had_ I…

No, wait. I remember who introduced me to the cutter's lifestyle; the one who informed me that cutting can make you feel better, calmer, happier… Even if it hurt to remember it. I clamped my mouth shut, deciding I would treat that as a rhetorical question and just not answer.

Roxas withdrew from the hug, holding me at arm's length and giving me a stern look. It kind of made me nervous when he did that.

"Promise me you won't _ever_ pull a stunt like that again. Okay, Tor?" he said in a low tone. I nodded vigorously in response.

It dawned on me then that I might be looking at myself in a different light than most other people seemed to be. I mean, I didn't really think a lot of people would miss me if I died, apart from Demyx, and possibly Elaeus, a little bit, but here Roxas was, showing (if not in a slightly painful way—my cheek still stung) that he cared whether I lived or died, even though I'd only really been friends with him for less than a week. So maybe, if Roxas could come to care for me in just that short period of time, maybe… others could care for me, too? I found myself wondering to what extent Zexion and Axel and Marluxia cared for me, if they did at all. I highly doubted Marluxia did, anyways. I hadn't even known him for half a day before I went and almost unwittingly killed myself. But I couldn't help but wonder… who all _did_ care for me? It was definitely something to think about, but I was distracted from my thoughts as Roxas moved to exit the room. He paused in the doorway, turning back to offer me a grin.

"I'm gonna go get Demyx, Axel, and Zexion and tell them you're awake. They just left to grab some lunch. We've all been waiting for you to wake up," he stated.

My heart lurched a bit. Even _Zexion_ had been waiting for me to wake up?

"I'll bring you back something to eat, okay?" Roxas gave me another grin and a quick wave before leaving, and I collapsed onto the bed again, going over what he'd said again in my mind.

Maybe… they really do care for me?

I glanced over to the right side of the table, where a small, square side table with multiple vases crowded on it resided. I just about had a heart attack when I saw all the flowers crowded on the one small table. There were plenty of carnations in most of the vases, but the one bouquet that stood out from the rest was the huge bouquet set in the very middle of the table. I had a hunch who it was from the moment I laid eyes on it. Sure enough, as I scooted over to read the card that went with the beautiful bouquet of forget-me-nots and daisies—my two favorite flowers—I read the name of the person it said it was from, and a smile tugged at my lips. Demyx really did know me well. I read the note on the card, and I could feel the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes by the time I finished.

_'Dear Tor,'_ I read silently, _'Please, please, _please _get well soon. I love you too much for you to die. XOXO, Demyx.'_

I set the card back down where it had been before, nestled in the beautiful bouquet of blue and white flowers, and put a hand over my mouth as the tears blurred my vision. I thought about the extremely tight-knit bond that Demyx and I shared, and the reason we had it. And I almost thanked our mother for abandoning us, because if she hadn't, I don't think Demyx and I would've been even half as close as we were now. I really did treasure that closeness more than anything, and I realized once again how stupid and cruel it was of me to have cut myself, because I realized at that moment that for every time I'd cut myself, I might as well have been cutting my family and friends, because I'd hurt them just as much as I'd hurt myself. I'd been spending my time with the blade when I could've been talking with them, getting my thoughts and feelings out in the open instead of cutting myself because I was dwelling on the negative thoughts and feelings that I was keeping bottled up inside.

I wiped my eyes, taking a tissue from the Kleenex box they'd somehow managed to cram onto the already crowded side table and blowing my nose, tossing the icky used tissue into the tiny garbage can placed conveniently beneath the table. I randomly picked a card from one of the smaller bouquets of carnations. This one had white carnations and baby's breath mixed together, and the card read, _'Just get well, dammit. From, Axel'_.

I chuckled a bit. I could tell Axel wasn't really the type of guy to go writing mushy cards or talking about his feelings. I could tell he meant well, though, and the card made me laugh, even in the mood I was in. I decided Axel was a good guy, after all. I might just be able to be good friends with him in good time, now that we'd put our differences aside and decided to make a fresh start. If he was willing to make the effort to try and be my friend, then I knew I'd just have to go the extra mile to be a friend to him, too.

I was just about to look at the next card, which did not have a corresponding bouquet, when I heard footsteps thundering down the hospital hall and a woman's nasally voice yelling, "No running in the hospital, or I'll have you removed!" However, the footsteps did not slow, and they were coming down the hallway my room was down. I turned to face the doorway so I'd be able to see the hooligans making all the ruckus as they ran past my room. However, instead of getting a fleeting glimpse of people running past, I instead got a glimpse of Demyx and Axel racing into my room and straight at me before they both leapt onto the bed, and I was suddenly on the receiving end of a very painful three-way glompfest.

So in other words, I was pretty much on the bottom of a slightly friendlier version of a dogpile.

Somehow, I seem to remember something like this happening very recently. Only there's slightly less weight this time, because Roxas isn't in on it this time.

"Tor!" Demyx cried, hugging me so tight I almost couldn't breathe. "Did you see the flowers? Did you read my card? Are you going to live?" he fired off, not leaving time between questions for me to answer. I felt Axel withdraw from the glompfest and recline beside me on the just-barely-roomy-enough hospital bed.

I smiled at Demyx. "Yes, the flowers are beautiful, thank you very much. Yes, and it made me cry, you whelp. And I'm proud to say that I'm still alive and feeling downright peachy, even, so yes, I assume that I'm going to live," I said, vaguely aware of the fact that both my left wrist and right palm had been securely bandaged.

Demyx smiled warmly. I felt a little tug at my heartstrings. Yes; this was the brother that was unspeakably dear to me. It did my heart good to see that from his eyes and his smile, he seemed to be truly happy at that moment. I kissed my wonderful brother on the top of his head, then poked him in the side, which never failed to make him squeak. I heard Axel snicker when he did, but I ignored him. There was a somewhat pressing matter I had to address, after all, and it was pressing painfully on my ribcage.

"Erm…Demyx… you know I love you and all, but that doesn't change the fact that you're too heavy to lie on top of me without causing me a great deal of physical discomfort," I said.

Demyx blinked.

I grimaced. "In other words… please get off. You're squishing me."

Three…

Two…

One.

"…Oh," Demyx said, an enlightened look crossing his face. "OH." He grinned, flipping over onto Axel to knock the wind out of him before actually standing up off the bed and going to join Zexion and Roxas, who had both parked their rears in two of the four seats lined up against the wall facing the foot of the bed. And, being the total spaz I am, I totally didn't realize there was a mystery food item wrapped in tin foil flying towards my face until it'd already made impact.

I guess when you don't have ninja-like reflexes, everybody gets this irresistible urge to laugh at how slow you are. That kinda made me miffed. I wonder how _they'd_ like to have someone smack them in the face with their food when they least expect it. I was kind of tempted to throw it right back at Roxas to smack _him_ in the face with it, but… I was _so hungry._ Hmm… get revenge, or satisfy my hunger. I really wasn't sure what I wanted more, but then my stomach gave this weird, whiny growl, so I gave in and just ate my food (which I found to be a tasty, completely normal chicken burger). An ever-so-slightly awkward silence settled over the room as I ate. It was kind of amusing, actually. Demyx coughed into his hand before speaking.

"Well, uhh… I think I'll go get dad. He'll probably discharge you now that you're feeling better," he said, quickly scooting out of the room. I briefly wondered if dad was going to make me talk to a shrink because of this incident. However, knowing him, he'd probably just have filed my injury as an accident or something so no one would think that one of his "darling children" was messed up in the head. He always tried to make everyone think that he, Demyx, and I were the perfect family, even though we had no mother to speak of and he was always at work. And I bet he'll be pushing that idea onto people even _more_ after he and Ámarie get married. I couldn't help but wonder what Ámarie and Zexion would think about that.

I shifted on the still not-very-roomy bed. Axel's elbow was digging into my side, and it wasn't exactly what I'd call comfortable.

"Aaaaxeeeeel," I whined, "there's not enough _room_ on this bed for two people," I subtly hinted. I was much more comfortable when it was just me on the bed. Unfortunately, Axel didn't seem to want to comply with my indirectly-spoken wish.

"Well, then get off," he said, smirking a bit. "I'm way too comfortable to move."

My eye twitched a bit.

"Okay, that's it. No more nice Tor!" I said, and promptly sat on Axel's stomach, pleased with the "oof!" I received in return. Just at that moment, however, Demyx and dad walked in.

And let me tell you—it's really awkward when your dad walks into the room and you're sitting on some guy he doesn't even know.

--

**A/N: **There's a reason why purple is one of my favorite colors—it means reviews!


	11. Time Flies When You're Having Fun

**A/N:** Hey-o, all! Yes, it's me. I'm back. Run in fear, bwahahaha.

Anywho, instead of doing the usual and just thanking everyone for their wonderful reviews, I decided I'm going to respond to them here. So here be my replies:

**Ghetto squirrel:** I appreciate your review! And I'm glad you thought it was funny. That's what I was aiming for :D Love the name, by the way!

**Elle Steinig:** Awww... -adorable mental picture- Well, I don't think I gave Tor venting time in this chapter, but oh well. Here is your update! :)

**talim440:** Yes, well, because of how much blood she lost (enough to make her pass out), she would've had to get a blood transfusion, I believe, but since she wasn't exactly awake for it, she wouldn't exactly know that... and as for how long she was in the hospital, it says in this chapter. :) And thank you for your lovely compliments.

**Persion: **Chapter says exactly what you want to know, so read on. :D

**Dude-Rawk:** Man, I always look forward to your reviews. They're so long and you comment on so many things. It makes me happy. :D Here is your update.

Okay, so I know I should probably update more often than I do even now, but as school is starting up for me this next week, I'm going to take a little "mini-vacation" from updating here, because I'd rather be able to be ahead of this story chapter-wise, so I'm going to not update until **October 5th**, just to give myself enough time to get two or three chapters ahead of my updating. Sorry, guys, but I'd rather be able to have some of the story written ahead of time just in case something comes up and I'm unable to write the next part of the story for some reason or another by one of my deadlines. Hope you'll all forgive me. :(

Anywho, without further ado now, here is the chapter!

**--**

"So, Tor, mind telling me how you know that boy you were sitting on?" dad demanded, giving me that tight-lipped smile of his that I'd learned long ago meant that if you didn't give him a straight answer, he'd ground your arse to hell and back. Dad had dragged me out into the hall after uttering a terse "Excuse us" to the other inhabitants of the room. I briefly entertained the idea of telling him that the redhead's name was Dennis, and he was the devil incarnate come to take Demyx and I as his concubines, and that Roxas was his cross-dressing wife. As hilarious as the look on his face would've doubtless been if I'd told him that (he likely would've turned purple in his rage), I decided that no, I did _not_ feel like getting grounded for the rest of my miserable life. I bit back my laughter and told him the truth.

"His name's Axel Waddell, dad. I met him on the last day of school." I deliberately left out the fact that I'd saved Demyx from getting beat up worse than he had been already by the redhead, as I could see how deeply dad's mistrust for Axel lay already, and I didn't want to give him a reason to justify it. "He's been hanging out with Dem and I since Sam left. He's a pretty good guy, really." I couldn't help but smile a bit. Had it been two days ago I'd talked to my dad about Axel, I would never have said such things in his defense. In fact, I'd probably be trying to get my dad to dislike him. But here I was, telling dad that Axel was a "good guy"… and, I realized, he really _was_.

"Hmph. Well, if you say so. But… if I ever catch him doing so much as _one_ thing I don't approve of, I will not allow you to have him in my house ever again!" he said, going a bit red in the face, which let me know he really meant what he was saying. I withheld my resigned sigh and simply nodded.

"Sooo… am I free to go home now, doc?" I said, grinning a bit. Dad pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a moment, as if he were trying to fend off a migraine. I rolled my eyes. I swear, my dad can be such a drama queen at times.

"Alright. But mark my words, young lady," he said in a warning tone, "if you _ever_ pull a stunt like you did yesterday _ever again_, I swear I'll ship you off to military school!" He momentarily regained the red tinge that marked his words as truth, and I paled. He had only ever threatened me with military school once before, and that had been two years ago, when I'd been in Grade 8. I'd used to pick fights in school, and I'd wound up losing one of them… badly… so of course, my dad had found out, and he'd been so enraged he'd told me he'd send me off to military school if I didn't wise up and stop trying to beat the snot out of people when they so much as looked at me the wrong way. I was mildly aware of the fact that he'd said "if you ever pull a stunt like you did _yesterday_ ever again", which at least told me what day it was—Monday, June 30th. I nodded again to let him know I understood, and he turned to walk away, but paused, looking back at me over his shoulder.

"Oh, and Demyx has a change of clothes for you. I highly doubt you want to walk home in a hospital gown," he said, an amused look on his face, before turning back around and walking off down the blinding white hospital corridor. I looked down, surprised to find that I really _was_ dressed in a hospital gown. Now, how in the _world_ did that fact manage to slip by me before? I quickly zipped back into the room, throwing Dem a glance which he caught, as he immediately stood and began ushering everyone out of the room, closing the door behind him so I could change in complete privacy. I was grateful for this as I tugged my favorite pair of stonewash jeans on, along with my rainbow belt Demyx had thought to bring. Overall, I was fairly pleased with the clothes Dem had brought me as I pulled on my watermelon socks and mine and Sam's opposite-colored flats, but then… I caught a glimpse of the shirt.

It was sleeveless.

And it was fitted.

The two things I absolutely loathed in a shirt.

Why, oh _why_, did Demyx have to give me a fricking _tanktop_ to wear, when he _knows_ I haven't worn anything but big sweaters for the past half a year? And he even knew my reason why, now, too! I was extremely flustered, but, as it was the only shirt that he had brought, and it was better than wearing a hospital gown home over my jeans, I reluctantly tugged the horrid white tanktop on over my head. It even had the spaghetti straps that I despised so… I really wonder where, when, and _why _in the_ seven hells_ I ever bought this damn thing… Maybe it was one of the clothing items Sam had forced me to buy when we went shopping together because she thought it looked good on me. She always did have this way of persuading me to buy things I didn't like—usually just so that she could borrow them from me. I concluded that that was probably why I'd bought this tanktop, because it sure as hell wasn't something I'd usually wear.

_Curse you, Demyx…_ I thought as I tugged at the bottom of the tanktop; it wasn't quite long enough for my taste. I really wasn't used to fitted stuff like this, because usually my big sweaters completely covered my physique, obscuring what very little figure I had; just the way I liked it. And they were always long enough that I _never_ had worry about them riding up and showing my stomach, like I was kind of paranoid this stupid tanktop was going to do. And the main thing about my big sweaters was that you could _never_ see any of the scars I'd inflicted on myself… unlike with this tanktop. I was ashamed of what I'd done now, and it didn't help that Demyx had given me this sleeveless shirt to wear in front of all my new friends, so that they'd be able to see all the scars all the way up my arms and on my shoulders, although I absent-mindedly noted that at least no one who didn't already know what'd happened to me would be able to really tell what'd happened to my wrist, as dad had bandaged it up, but then put a tensor bandage over it to make it seem like I'd just sprained my wrist instead of slicing it open.

_Well, if there's one good thing to say about dad, it's that he hates when people talk bad about our family, so he's not about to give people a reason to gossip about us,_ I thought as I folded the hospital gown somewhat sloppily, leaving it on the bed for a nurse or someone to pick up later and heading to join up with the gang, wanting to get the trip home over and done with so I could put a sweater on again. As I reached for the doorknob, it suddenly occurred to me that even though dad had so carefully made it so no one would suspect I'd slit my wrist, Demyx had thrown caution to the wind by giving me this frigging tanktop, so that people could see all my new and old scars, and so that they could speculate and gossip about my scars and how they thought I might have gotten them. If dad found out what Dem had done… I didn't want to think about how mad he'd be. I shuddered, quickly exiting the room I'd been previously occupying and, spotting the gang down the hallway a ways, rushing down to join them. I carefully took in everyone's reactions to seeing all my scars: a mix of pain, shock, and sadness, for the most part, although the degree to which each person's expression held each emotion varied. No one commented on all my scars, although I kind of wished they would berate me for my stupidity; I just felt so bad that I was making such a negative impact on everyone. I really wished I could be the happy person that everyone could count on to make them feel better when they felt down about stuff, but instead, here I was, the _cause_ for everyone feeling down, to some extent, at least.

Needless to say, it was a very quiet walk back home. No one spoke, everyone keeping whatever thoughts they might have to themselves, although I was dying to speak, to say something like, "Aren't you going to yell at me for what I did?" I felt just like a little kid waiting for their punishment for doing something bad, and, truth be told, it was slightly unnerving. However, as we stepped into the porch, just as I was about to take my shoes off, Demyx caught me in a bone-crushing hug that felt almost…desperate? I was stunned, to say the least. It felt, to me, like he must've thought he was going to lose me after that stunt I'd pulled. My vision began to blur as tears threatened to spill, but I saw Roxas and Axel share a look before joining in on the hug, as well. I tried to smile, but it felt a bit lopsided, even to me. I saw Zexion, standing a couple feet away still, roll his eyes, almost as if to say, "I can't believe I'm doing this", before briefly joining the big group hug, quickly retreating from arms' reach thereafter. I was shocked. Even though last time we'd talked, it had ended on a sour note, he didn't seem to begrudge me for being as cryptic and secretive as I had been. At this, I brightened a bit, quickly ducking out of the group hug everyone else was still part of and running to the kitchen even as I heard Roxas, Axel, and Demyx falling in a heap on the floor. I grinned, quickly grabbing some chips and dip from the cupboard and fridge respectively and heading to the living room, setting the snack food on the table as I hauled our big cardboard box of Disney movies out from where they were stored in the entertainment center beneath the TV.

I glanced over all the familiar titles; I was a big fan of Disney movies. It was something about me that hadn't changed since I was just a little kid. I was more a fan of the classics than I was of most of the sequels, though. Grinning, I closed my eyes and randomly grabbed one of the movies from the box. When I looked to see what I'd gotten, I was amused to see I'd grabbed _Alice in Wonderland_, the one Disney movie that Sam had been practically obsessed with. I rolled my eyes. I had practically the whole movie memorized, by now, but oh well; might as well watch it again, despite how many times Sam had gotten me to watch it before.

I realized detachedly that I didn't really feel angry or sad anywhere near as much as I had before about Sam moving away. I wondered bemusedly if that was because of the new friends I'd made and all the crap I'd gone through over the past four days. I started a bit when I realized that, indeed, it had only been four days since the last day of school had ended and Sam had moved away.

'_Wow. That's pretty unbelievable. What with all that's happened over the past few days, it makes it seem like at least a WEEK has gone by…'_ I thought.

Shrugging, I stuck the movie in, pressed play, turned the TV on, and hurried back to join the guys as they were converging on the couch. Axel had already snatched the chips and was eagerly tearing the bag open. I rolled my eyes, seating myself on the floor beside Zexion, in front of Demyx's legs, since there was no way we were all going to fit on the one and only couch in the room, and I didn't want poor Zexy to feel alone because he was the only one sitting on the floor. As the advertisements for other movies began showing, I smiled, settling back comfortably against Dem's legs in preparation for the movie, surrounded by my friends.

I smiled. I liked the sound of that.

Surrounded by my _friends_.

--

Sighing contentedly, I set down _New Moon_ beside me on the gently sloped garage roof, as I'd just finished said book. It was now about 10:30pm, I estimated, as I was beginning to feel like I should be going to sleep about now. I smiled a bit; it had been a fun day, overall.

After we'd finished _Alice in Wonderland_, I'd noticed it was 5:07pm, surprisingly enough, although I realized then that I'd never really bothered to check what time it'd been after getting home from the hospital. I was delighted when Zexion had offered to help me make supper, as I'd tasted myself how well he could cook, but I was kind of wary when Axel offered to help… and then Roxas… and then Demyx… and we ended up just throwing random cooking ingredients at each other and making a very large mess of the kitchen that I'd no doubt have to clean up later.

We ended up just eating sandwiches in the end.

After we'd eaten, Roxas and Axel had bid us adieu, though Zexion had accepted Demyx's challenge of a game of Soul Calibur. He, too, had bid us adieu about half an hour later, wearing a smug grin, as he had seriously handed Dem's ass to him on a silver platter. After he left, I ran through a couple songs on the piano, then left Demyx to his guitar as he messed around with some chords, apparently trying to write a song yet again. I quickly snatched _New Moon_ from my room and climbed out Demyx's window and onto the garage roof, carefully picking my way over to the part that was right by where I guessed my room would be. I immediately seated myself on the slightly slanted surface, and quickly delved deep into the book, losing myself in the second book of Bella's life story. Demyx would know to look for me here if he needed me; it was where I usually went when I felt like my room just wouldn't cut it privacy-wise. Nothing disturbed my reading throughout the entire book, so I managed to finish it all in one sitting.

And so, here I was, finished the book, with nothing to do. I was fairly sure Demyx wouldn't be asleep already; he usually went to sleep later than I did. I wasn't really sure what I wanted to do, so I just lay back on the roof, looking up at the stars, even though I didn't know any of the constellations to be able to spot them. My eyes were quickly drawn to the moon, which, for some reason, seemed different than usual…

My eyes bugged.

The moon was shaped like a heart.

I quickly shut my eyes, rubbing them furiously with both hands until spots appeared behind my eyelids. First I was mentally unstable enough to resort to cutting myself to make myself feel better about stuff, and now I'm seeing a heart-shaped moon? Am I seriously going loony? I opened my eyes again, blinked once, feeling bewilderment wash over me.

The moon was normal.

It was just a normal, full moon.

My eyes had been playing tricks on me.

Severely disturbed, I grabbed my book and headed inside, not sure what to think of what I was no longer sure that I'd just seen.


	12. A Turning Point

**A/N:** Thank you, once again, to all of those who reviewed! I wish I could reach through the internet and give you each a great big hug, but that would probably be quite creepy and stalkerish of me, so I shall restrain myself from doing so.

To answer a couple of questions, yes, New Moon is a real book (written by Stephenie Meyer; 2nd book in her 'Twilight' series... awesome series, by the way), and you shall see in this chapter basically what I meant by throwing that whole heart-shaped moon incident in there. This chapter marks a turning point, as the chapter title proclaims. I hope no one hates me for what I have made happen in this chapter.

Anywho, now, without further ado, I give you all my next update.

--

I frantically clung to the sleep that was slowly but surely leaving my mind. I wasn't ready to wake up just yet, and I was enthralled with the dream I was currently having. The dream was concluding, as a rebellion force was fighting against the evil king's army, and the king cast a spell meant to kill the young man leading the rebellion force, but the spell back-fired and ended up killing _him_, instead. As he lay dying, I could feel myself waking up, but I clung to the last threads of sleep just long enough to hear him utter, "_I know ire, Chase._"

My eyes involuntarily flew open. For some reason, I immediately knew that this "Chase" the king had mentioned was the young man who'd been leading the rebel forces. I frowned a bit. Normally, it was very rare for me to get a name of one of the people in my dreams; it had only happened to me twice before, that I could recall.

The telephone rang shrilly, jerking me out of my musings. I quickly rolled towards the edge of the bed, intending to swing my legs over the edge and stand up when I reached it, but my legs were too slow reacting, and I wound up doing a very painful face-plant on the carpeted floor for the umpteenth time in the past month alone.

Huh. Y'know, I really should place a futon there or something to cushion my fall next time…or maybe even replace my bed with a futon… The phone rang again, and I groaned in complaint. _'Maybe I should just lie here and go back to sleep… Demyx can get the phone.'_ I tried to move my arm. It reluctantly moved a bit, but I couldn't muster the strength to push myself into a sitting position or anything. Thankfully, two rings later, the phone cut off mid-ring, and I could faintly hear Demyx's voice from downstairs. I rolled over onto my back, yanking on the quilt on my bed weakly to try and tug it over myself. Unfortunately, the quilt decided it wanted to stay on the bed, and I was too tired still to fight with it, so I gave up and just lay on my back on the slightly uncomfortable floor. I'd probably wake up with a sore back, but I really just wanted to go back to sleep at the moment.

Unfortunately, the footsteps coming up the stairs seemed to not agree with me going back to sleep.

Dangit.

"Tor!" Demyx called, knocking on my door. "I know you're up. Come get the door. The phone's for you."

Ugh. Great.

I managed to get myself up onto my elbows by the time Demyx got fed up and barged into my room even though he knew I hated when he did that. I glared at him as he tossed the phone at me, expecting me to catch it.

Well, I did.

With my head.

"GUH! Demyx, quit being an arse," I said grasping my now sore head. Great… just great. I hope I don't get a headache from that. "And get out of my room," I added as an after-thought, grabbing the phone from where it'd fallen beside me after _hitting_ me in my frickin' _head_. I was so not pleased about that.

"Hello?" I said into the receiver, eyeing Demyx as he skittered out of my room and closed the door behind him, grinning at the fact that he'd whacked me in the head with the stupid phone. I made a mental note to make him pay for that later.

"Oh, Tor, sweetie!" I heard Ámarie's melodic voice say, and I could picture the smile on her face as she spoke. "Your father and I were just talking about the wedding last night, and we agreed that we'd both like for you to be one of my bridesmaids!" She gushed. I was stunned, but she didn't realize, and she continued. "Would you mind coming over some time today to look at dresses?"

I was a bit taken aback. "But… um, really… I mean, I know you're getting married to my dad, but… you really don't know me very well at all. Why do you want me to be one of your bridesmaids?" I said, utterly confused.

Ámarie laughed; a delicate, tinkling laugh. I couldn't help but smile a bit.

"Silly girl, I'm going to be your mother-in-law! Of _course_ I want you to be one of my bridesmaids!" she said warmly. "I know I don't know you very well, sweetie, but I'd _like_ to. I want us to be able to be friends, even if you can't see me as your mother."

I bit my lip. She sounded so sincere about what she was saying that I couldn't just say _no_. I repressed a sigh. "…All right. Can I eat breakfast first?" I smiled wryly. _'Even though Zexion cooks better?'_

She laughed again; I decided she had very pretty laughter. I could kind of see why dad had taken a liking to her. "Of course! Come over any time you like; I've got the day off today, so I'll be home all day."

"Okay," I said, feeling a bit awkward now, as I wasn't sure how I should end the conversation with her. "I'll… see you later, then." I bit my lip.

"All right. Bye, Tor."

I frowned a bit. "Bye." I quickly hit the 'end call' button. I never liked saying goodbye, even when I knew I'd see the person I was saying goodbye to later. It just always felt too… _final_ to me, I guess. Like I was leaving them forever, or something. I quickly changed into a pair of vintage-wash jeans and a Sephiroth t-shirt from Final Fantasy VII (one of the best games ever, in my opinion) before heading downstairs to put the phone back in its cradle and make a quick breakfast of cheese toast.

Mmm… cheese…

Oh, wait.

"Hey Demyx," I called in a sugary-sweet tone to the boy currently eating slightly burnt toast with jam at the table. I watched as he gulped at the very big smile on my face.

"Umm… yes, Tor?" he said, his voice wavering a bit.

I inched towards him, holding the almost-done block of marble cheese behind my back; he didn't seem to have noticed I was still holding it when I started creeping towards him. His expression turned from cautious to fearful as I suddenly rushed at him, promptly shoving the cold block of cheese down his shirt.

"Agh! Tor! What the hell did you just shove down my shirt?!" he yelped, twisting about as he tried to grab the block of cheese out of the place where it was stuck between his fitted t-shirt and his back.

I grinned as the toaster oven gave a quick 'ding!', signaling my cheese toast was finished. "The _Almighty Cheese of Vengeance_," I stated, quickly sliding my toast onto a plate and sitting down at the table to eat it while Demyx finally managed to get the cheese out of his shirt. He stuck his tongue out at me, but didn't make a move to do anything against me. He'd probably do something to me later, when I wasn't expecting him to. That was the way it was between Demyx and me. We loved each other and all, and we were very close, but we still did stuff like this every once in a while. I smiled. It was amusing, at least, and we never begrudged the other for anything or did anything that might seriously hurt them; it was all just in good fun.

I quickly wolfed down my toast, eating quick like I always did, giving Dem a quick hug before taking my skateboard over to Ámarie's house. I'd always been good with remembering numbers, so I wasn't surprised that I could still remember the number of Ámarie's house from when dad had told me it.

I hesitated at the top of the stairs in front of her door, hand raised to knock, as I noticed a vaguely familiar car in the driveway. I bit my lip. Something in the back of my mind told me that I should really remember that car, for some reason, but I quickly silenced the thought. It was probably Ámarie's car, seeing as her car hadn't been here last time I'd visited. I quickly rapped my knuckles loudly on the wooden door three times in a row.

After a minute of waiting with no Ámarie or Zexion answering the door, I frowned, knocking again.

Still no answer.

I was very confused at this. Ámarie had said that she'd be here _all day_, if I recalled correctly, and I'd only just gotten off the phone with her twenty minutes ago, tops. So why wasn't she _answering_ the freaking _door?_

My frown deepened, and I tried the doorknob.

It was open.

Pushing aside my shock, I cautiously opened the door. "Ámarie?" I called, sticking my head in and quickly looking around the living room the front door opened up into. There was no answer, which kind of put me on edge. I'm not really sure why, but this, along with how I was _sure_ I recognized that car in the driveway from somewhere, made me feel really uneasy. I quickly stepped inside and set my skateboard down by the door, shutting the door behind me.

I stepped into the kitchen and surveyed the room.

Nothing off there.

I stepped into the adjoining room.

The only thing one _might_ find off was the fact that the computer was on and there was an internet browser open, and a half-full mug of still-warm coffee was sitting on a TV tray next to the computer desk. I frowned again. Well, at least if she did leave, she hadn't been gone long.

I stood still, listening… for what, I'm not quite sure. But a moment later, I heard a male voice I didn't recognize sound from down the hallway. I tensed; for some reason, my mind was screaming for me not to go see who it was, but I had to go look. For all I knew, Ámarie could be in trouble, and if I didn't go check it out and it turned out she was, then I would never be able to forgive myself. Thus, I set off down the hallway, peering cautiously into each room as I passed by it. A very tidy, organized room decorated in black and shades of blue, which I assumed to be Zexion's, was first on the left, then a laundry room was first on the right, then what appeared to be a spare room with a fold-out cot and no furniture save for a wooden desk and a couple shelves on the left, a washroom on the right, and then a closed door which I assumed would lead to the master bedroom at the end of the hall.

I hesitantly reached for the doorknob, but paused as the male voice sounded again, and I could actually hear what he was saying this time, even with how muffled it sounded with the door blocking most of the noise from me.

"Goodbye, Ámarie."

'_No!'_ I really hated how it sounded when that voice said those words. For some reason, even moreso than usual, I felt like they were _really_ saying an eternal goodbye. I quickly flung the door open, throwing all caution to the wind, only to see Xehanort, my mother's boyfriend, holding a .22 Caliber gun aimed at a terrified Ámarie.

And then he pulled the trigger.

"NO!" I was vaguely aware of hearing myself scream. It felt surreal; I wasn't even sure I was there at the moment. It felt like I was having a horrible, horrible nightmare, and like I should be waking up any moment now, trembling, and that Demyx would be there to comfort me.

But I didn't wake up.

Ámarie fell to the floor, eyes still wide, mouth open in shock. The cream-colored carpet quickly turned red around where she fell, a single hole in her forehead being the only sign that she was mortally wounded.

I froze.

I don't know what happened; I could feel the immense urge to run to her side, to hold her and tell her it was going to be all right and that I was going to call an ambulance, to do _something_, even if she was dead by now. But I couldn't move; I just couldn't stop staring at the red that was soaking into the carpet. It was just like when I'd slit my wrist; the blood just kept flowing, and I was immobilized by the sight of it. I couldn't do anything.

But Xehanort moved.

With a great effort, I managed to tear my gaze away from Ámarie's body to look at Xehanort. His emotionless orange eyes seemed to be _mocking_ me, and a cold smirk played upon his face as he lowered the gun he had just shot the woman whom had been engaged to my father with.

And then, I was filled with such an intense, horrible _loathing_ towards this man, that I cannot even begin to explain with words. It was _unfathomable_, it was so immense. I couldn't even begin to grasp it myself, but that was what I felt towards him. It was a dark feeling, and I could feel it consuming me, but the hatred with which I glared at him—wishing so bad that I could _kill him_ right then and there with nothing more than a mere glare—only caused his smirk to _widen_. And I could not understand how he could simply stand there while I craved to kill him and _smirk_ at me. He was the most outrageously emotionless, cruel _thing_ that I had ever met. I could swear that he was not human, with how he had acted during only the times that I had seen him.

"Do you want to know why?"

I could not comprehend why he would even bother speaking to me at that time, with all the rage and hatred that I felt towards him, which I was quite sure was openly displayed on my face.

"Why _what?_" I ground out.

His smirk grew fractionally. "Why, a lot of things. Why I shot her. Why I'm not showing any signs of emotion even though I did that."

I flexed my jaw. "_Obviously._"

He gave a quiet sound; it almost sounded like a chuckle, only it didn't really hold any emotion in it, which made it sound sort of odd.

"I shot her… no, never mind. I think I'll keep that to myself for now.

"The reason why I'm not showing any emotion over it is the fact that… I am a _nobody._"

I was confused. "A… _what?_" I became enraged again. "What the hell kind of _excuse_ is _that?_" I yelled. It also really ticked me off that he hadn't even answered the first question, even though it was one that _he_ had suggested I might want to know the explanation for.

Stupid bastard.

He gave that strange, emotionless chuckle again. "A _nobody_… When a person with a strong heart succumbs to darkness, they split into two beings: a heartless, and a nobody. The heartless is formed from the corrupt heart, and the nobody is formed from the body and soul. Since the nobodies have no hearts… therefore, they feel no emotions that the heart evokes. They can only remember what it was once like to feel."

He smirked, and began to circle around me like a predator circling its prey. His piercing orange eyes didn't make me feel any better about it, either.

"A great majority of the people you are acquainted with are nobodies, _dear Tor_," he said. The sound of his voice saying my name made me feel sick to my stomach, and the words he spoke just made the feeling worse. "Demyx… Axel… Roxas… Larxene… Elaeus… Zexion… Braig… Dilan… Marluxia… Luxord… All of them are _nobodies_."

His smirk became one of wickedness, even though it still didn't reach his eyes.

"And all of them have led me back to _you_."

My eyes widened. "They… _what?_" I could not fathom _any_ of them leading this _horrid _person back to me—not even Marluxia, who I hardly knew at all, or Larxene, whom I had come to loathe.

His expression became calm and emotionless once more. "Your heart is pure and strong. Seeing as we are nobodies, we are spawned of darkness, and reborn from darkness again when we die, since it always exists in people's hearts. As we are beings of darkness, we crave that which we do not have; we crave hearts, to feel human emotions once again.

"And your heart, _dear Tor_, has the capability to restore our hearts."

I felt my lip pull back in a sneer. "Are you _mocking_ me…?" I asked in a low, dangerous tone.

A ghost of his former smirk returned to his face.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not," he stated evasively, waving his hand as though in dismissal. "It's your choice whether you choose to believe my words to be true or not. But keep this in mind," he said, his emotionless eyes boring into mine with such a burning intensity that I had to fight the reflexive action to look away. "Your emotions… are the key."

His words bewildered me, but before I knew it, he had bowed and backed up to the window on the other side of the room—never breaking eye contact with me—and jumped out of the window in one fluid motion.

"No!" I cried in rage. If he had committed suicide to get out of the consequences of shooting Ámarie, then he was nothing but a _coward!_ I quickly ran over to the window and peered down and out of it, the sight that greeted my eyes puzzling me. I quickly looked all around the surrounding houses on the road, but…

There was no trace of Xehanort anywhere.

That was physically impossible for him to just… _disappear_ like that, though.

…Wasn't it?

I could feel a headache coming on, so, holding my head, I turned back around…

…and had to hold a hand over my mouth as my stomach lurched.

The bloody mess that surrounded Ámarie's head was sickening. I hadn't been at the correct angle to truly see it before, but now I was sure it was a good thing I hadn't seen it earlier. I didn't even want to be seeing it _now_, but it would've been hella worse if I'd seen it while Xehanort was standing right there near me, because I would've definitely hurled, and then I would've been prone to anything. He could've even killed _me_, too, if he wanted to.

I tensed.

Xehanort had still been holding the gun all throughout the time that he'd been explaining things to me.

He could've shot me whenever he'd damn well pleased.

…So why _didn't_ he…?

The shock and fear that suddenly set upon me combined with the gruesome scene splayed out in front of me caused me to suddenly retch, and the horrible taste of bile remained in my mouth as I dazedly dialed 9-1-1 to report what had happened, only half-listening to the questions that were asked as I answered robotically, telling them the location and what Xehanort had done. The lady I was talking to told me that it would be best if I stayed put now that the murderer was gone; the police would be on their way momentarily, and they were likely going to have to question me about what had happened.

It was going to be a long day.

--

(Hey! Hey, you! Pssst! There's a purple button right beneath this text that says "Review". You know you want to... ;D And I know that not everyone reading this story reviews. But it would be very greatly appreciated if you did, hint hint.)


	13. Meet My Uncles

**A/N:** Yo, people! Sorry I didn't say when I'd be updating next in the last chapter. Ehe... -sweatdrop- But anyways, I did update quicker this time! Actually, I didn't quite get to where I'd thought I would in this chapter, because it already exceeded 4,000 words, so I decided to bump back what I was going to use to end this chapter to the next chapter. But still. I think it's a decent chapter. Not as tense as last chapter, that's for sure. A reprieve from insanity, if you will. Lol.

Anywho, thank you once again to my absolutely wonderful **reviewers**:

**Persion**, **talim440**, **Elle Steinig**, and **Dude-Rawk**.

There will be more confusion, mayhem, and some explanations for things in the next chapter, which I will be updating on Wednesday, October 22nd. Be there or be square. :) Hehe

Oh yeah, and just so you know, even though Tor's birthday is on July 4th, the stores would still be open, seeing as this fic does not take place in the USA or anything like that, so it wouldn't be Independence Day where she lives. Just thought I should make note of that so no one's confused or anything.

--

It had officially been two days since Ámarie had been killed, and I had seen neither hide nor hair of Xehanort since then. I hoped I never would, but I had a gut feeling that I was going to anyways.

I had never seen my dad so distraught before; not even when he realized mom had officially abandoned us. Even so, though, he still somehow found it in him to help her sister, Rachelle, and Rachelle's husband, Even, to organize Ámarie's funeral. It was hard for me, even now, after having the image of her dead body seared into my brain, to grasp the fact that Ámarie, the kind woman who had been looking forward to being a part of our family, was dead.

But somehow, even when the funeral rolled around and Demyx, dad, Zexion, and I all arrived at the church where Ámarie's funeral was being held, all dressed in black, and the fact finally hit me hard that she wasn't coming back, I found myself incapable of crying.

Instead, all I felt was a deep, burning hatred for the man called Xehanort.

And I swore to myself, then and there, that even if it killed me… I would _make Xehanort pay._

--

The moment the funeral was over, dad rushed out of the church. It seemed like he really couldn't stand being in the church and looking at the coffin of the woman he'd been engaged to, but I couldn't really say exactly why he'd run out as soon as the service ended. My dad had always been hard for me to read at the most crucial of times. Nevertheless, Demyx and I shared a look after he left and silently agreed that we weren't going to leave him alone while he was in mourning, because he could be more emotional than me at times, and as we both knew quite well what _I'd_ done when I'd felt overwhelmed by my emotions, we didn't even want to _think_ about what my _dad_ might do when his heart was in turmoil like this.

My uncles Braig and Dilan—my dad's younger brothers, aged 28 and 30, respectively—followed us out of the church and offered their condolences to dad. He thanked them briefly, blowing his nose for what must've been the umpteenth time since we'd gotten there. I noticed his eyes were red and puffy now, and I realized he must've been crying during the service when I hadn't been looking. It really surprised me, because my dad was definitely not a crier, despite how emotional he could get at times. He hadn't even cried when mom left, so I knew how serious it was when I saw the signs that he'd been crying earlier. Nevertheless, he managed to put on a brave face even then for us, his family, and still managed to think of the issues that needed to be addressed, even now, while he was grieving.

"Do you two have any place to stay yet? I don't want you to feel like you have to drive all the way back home again when you were considerate enough to come all the way out here today in the first place," he said to my uncles. They lived two and a half hours away, in the city, so I could understand why my dad wouldn't want to make them drive all the way back home now. Besides, with how upset my dad seemed, he probably wanted to have my uncles over to distract him from his emotions for a while.

Uncle Braig snorted. "As if! I'm not staying in that dinky little hotel on Main," he said, making a face. I bit my cheek so I wouldn't laugh; we were standing just outside the church, and I didn't want to seem disrespectful to the mourners still filing past us out the doors.

Dad attempted to smile, but he couldn't quite fill it out all the way; it turned out lopsided, looking more like a smirk to me, although I'm sure he hadn't meant it that way.

"Well, it looks like you'll be staying with us, then. I hope one of you doesn't mind the couch; we do have two guest bedrooms still, of course, but Zexion's going to be staying with us for a while before going to live with Rachelle and Even, so only one of the guest bedrooms is available."

Uncle Dilan furrowed his mildly disturbing (at least to Demyx and I) eyebrows, frowning slightly at my dad.

"Braig can take the couch, seeing as he seems to be able to sleep anyplace and anytime, no matter what's going on around him," he said in a slightly aggravated tone. I guess Uncle Braig must have dozed off at a very… inopportune time for Uncle Dilan, perhaps more than once.

I guess there must be a gene that runs in my family that makes you have weird sleeping habits? Hmm, I never knew this before… At least it's nice to know I'm not the only one that's strange when it comes to sleeping.

When we got home, Demyx quickly kicked off his shoes in the porch, me following his lead, and I trailed after him as he headed straight to the living room, collapsing on the sofa with a sigh. I attempted a smile, but it felt more like a grimace, so I quickly changed my face back to the emotionless state it'd been in before. Demyx gave a wry half-smile before patting the sofa beside him, silently telling me to sit. I quickly complied, and he placed a hand on my head and mussed my hair. I frowned, but made no comment on it. I'd made everyone sad enough in the past week as it was, so now that there was something else they were all sad about, I wanted to be there to comfort them. And if mussing my hair was any comfort to Demyx, then I would let him do so without complaint. In the back of my mind, Xehanort's words whispered that Demyx was a nobody without a heart, thus he was incapable of feeling, but I quickly silenced it. I would not allow myself to believe the words of a murderer and madman such as he.

"Y'know, Tor," Demyx said, promptly startling me from my thoughts. I turned to look at him, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. He grinned. "We should celebrate your birthday before the day's gone."

I could feel the shock apparent on my face. It had completely escaped my notice that it was July 4th today—my birthday. I grimaced. I didn't see what all the fuss was about birthdays; all it meant was that you were getting one year older. However, if it would make Demyx feel better—get his mind off of Ámarie's death, and perhaps get my mind off it, as well—then I would go along with celebrating my birthday. I shrugged to show I wasn't opposed to the idea, causing Demyx's grin to widen as he quickly zipped off to the kitchen to grab the phone and, presumably, call Axel, Roxas, and Zexion.

Glancing at the clock on the living room wall, I noticed it was 4:37. I absent-mindedly wondered if I should make supper, but quickly dismissed the idea. Now that Demyx was throwing together an impromptu party for me, he'd probably get all upset and moody if I tried cooking anything, because he qualified that as "work", and he'd likely start complaining that since it was my birthday, I wasn't supposed to work, blah, blah, blah. So instead, I once again found our movie box and took out my Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children DVD, setting it aside with the intention of watching it with the gang once everyone had arrived, then sat down on the couch again and motioned Demyx over as soon as he was done phoning everyone. He informed me with a grin that everyone was free and they would all be over in a couple minutes; Zexion was even bringing Marluxia over, since he'd been over when Dem had called there, and Marluxia said he didn't have anything else he had to do. So, Dem and I spent the next few minutes playing the country game (you know, that game where one person names a country and the next person has to name a country that starts with the letter the last country ended with, and you just keep doing that until someone either can't think of a country in 5 seconds or says one that's already been used) until we were interrupted by the doorbell ringing. Dem's and my eyes met, and I read the challenge in his; a challenge of a race to the door. I hid my sly smirk carefully, and as Demyx started the countdown, I secretly snuck my one hand behind my back to clutch the throw pillow perched behind me on the couch.

"Three… two…" I clutched the pillow tighter and tensed in preparation. "One—!"

_Whump!_ I quickly thwacked Demyx in the face with the pillow, no longer trying to hide my grin as I stunned my brother long enough to get a running head-start towards the door, enough for me to win the race despite the fact that Demyx was a faster runner than I was. I quickly whipped the door open as I reached it and barely managed to stop short of smashing into the person at the door. However, unfortunately Demyx had managed to pretty much catch up to me during my mad dash for the door, but he _didn't_ manage to _stop_ in time, and instead ended up slamming into my back, sending himself, myself, and the person on the other side of the door all tumbling onto the front lawn in a jumble of limbs as a result. As we went sprawling, I caught a fleeting glimpse of blond hair, causing me to assume it was Roxas whose spleen I was unintentionally crushing at the moment.

"Ah!" I quickly clambered to my feet after shoving Demyx off me. "Sorry, Rox, I—" I quickly shut my mouth as I looked at who I was now quite sure was _not_ Roxas. As my brain processed after a moment who it really was, though, my mouth dropped back open again. "U-Uncle Luxord!" I said, pleasantly surprised. Uncle Luxord was my mom's younger brother, and her only sibling. However, he and my mom hadn't been terribly close, as Uncle Luxord had spent most of his life until a few years ago living with his father in England, while my mother had lived here in Strathmore with her mother until she was 18 and graduated, when she immediately married my father, who was only a year older than her. I never had approved of my mother's actions, but, I digress.

I grinned at my uncle; even though he had a tendency to gamble, I still thought him more sensible than my mother. "When'd you get here, you sneaky devil?" I asked, offering him a hand to help him up. He smiled, waving it away as he stood.

"Not terribly long ago, luv," he said, smiling and pinching my cheek in a teasing manner. I frowned. "You ought to quit growing. Every time I see you you're half again the height you were before!" he exclaimed.

I stuck my tongue out at him, but quickly sucked it back in when he made a grab at it. "Well, maybe if you visited more often it wouldn't seem like I was growing so fast!" I sniffed indignantly. I heard Demyx chuckle behind me.

Uncle Luxord raised a finger. "…Ah. A fine point you have there. But as I live quite far away, there must be a matter that requires my addressing of it before I deem fit to drop in for a visit. And, as we are on that topic now, I would be much obliged if you could direct me to the whereabouts of your father dear…?" He smiled charmingly.

I rolled my eyes. "In the study that-a-way, dear sir," I pointed in the direction of the study, imitating Uncle Luxord's British accent the best I could. He chuckled and patted my head condescendingly, uttering a quick "thank you" before heading into the porch and taking his shoes off before heading to the study where dad and Uncles Braig and Dilan still were. I was just about to go inside as well to wait there for the gang when I found myself tackled to the ground, unceremoniously doing a face-plant in the grass. My wallet and key to my room dug painfully into my hip from where they were in my right jeans pocket.

Ow. That's probably going to be sore for a while now.

"Umm… Could whoever tackled me please get off of me?" I said, raising my head up a bit so my voice wouldn't be so muffled by the grass. I was relieved as the heavy (at least in my opinion) person rolled off of me, and I rolled over so I was lying on my back in the grass, looking up to see who it was that had tackled me, a bit miffed.

Ugh. I should've known it was none other than Axel. I rolled my eyes before slowly getting up. I kind of wished I knew how to do that move where you tuck your legs into your chest and push yourself off the ground and basically use your own momentum to throw yourself into a standing position. But, of course, I don't. Even though I'd tried to learn how to do it before, I could never really get it, and somehow always seemed to end up hurting myself in some way or another whenever I tried to do it. So I gave up on that idea pretty quickly.

Anyways. Moving on.

Axel grinned at me. "You know, you should really be more aware of your surroundings. Maybe then I wouldn't've been able to tackle you," he teased.

I frowned. What is this? Tease Tor Day? "Bite me," I said, sticking my tongue out. Axel wiggled his eyebrows at me. "Wait. I retract that statement. Don't bite me. Bite Demyx," I said, quickly hiding behind my brother before he could protest.

"Hey! Don't bring me into this!" he said, half-heartedly trying to push me out from behind him. I refused to budge, so he gave up pretty quickly. I peered cautiously out around him to look at the lone Axel. It felt kind of weird seeing him without Roxas. All the other times that I'd seen him, he and Roxas had pretty much been attached at the hip. They seemed like really good friends. A smile tugged at the corner of my lips, but I had to ask. Curiosity got the better of me.

"So what's up with Roxas? Why isn't he with you?" I asked. There must be a good reason why they didn't arrive together, I thought.

Axel shrugged. "Roxas just got off work a little while ago, so he hadn't come over to my house yet. He should be along in a minute or tw—oh! Hey, Roxas! Over here!" He waved at someone behind and to the right of me, and I turned from my hiding spot behind Demyx to see that, indeed, Roxas was jogging down the sidewalk towards us, grinning. I couldn't help but grin back.

"Well, speak of the devil," I said as he slowed to a stop right in the middle of our straggled little group.

He raised an eyebrow. "I hope you were at least saying good things about me, seeing as I wasn't here to defend myself if you weren't."

Axel snorted. "No, we were talking about your cocaine addiction," he said sarcastically. "You're too much of a goody-two-shoes for us to be able to say anything bad about you that's true." He rolled his eyes. Roxas just smiled.

Demyx looked around. "Huh, I would've thought Zexion and Marluxia would've been here by now."

Axel's eyebrows shot up. "_Marluxia's_ coming?" he asked in disbelief. "But we hardly even _know_ the dude!"

Dem shrugged. "Well, he's Zexion's friend, and Zexion's _our_ friend. That ought to count for something, right?" I stepped out from behind Demyx to stand beside him instead, glancing over at him just in time to see him smile brilliantly. My heart warmed at the sight, and I couldn't help but smile as well. Whenever my brother smiled as sincerely as he did now, it was like I could forget all my troubles and woes for a little while. It never failed to brighten my day. My train of thought was quickly interrupted, however, when Axel started talking to someone behind and to the right of me. _Again_.

"Well, it's about time you two showed up," he said, rolling his eyes. As I craned my neck around to see who it was, lo and behold, there were Zexion and Marluxia coming down the sidewalk. My guess was they'd just come around the bend and into view of our happy little group gathered on the front lawn. Marluxia's expression seemed to be carefully neutral, while Zexion, who was still all dressed in black, had slightly red eyes, and his expression seemed to be a bit strained, but apart from that, I wouldn't have been able to tell he'd just lost someone he loved if I hadn't known the person he'd lost myself. I immediately noticed a resemblance between him and my dad in the fact that they both seemed capable of putting on a brave face for those around them, but as I noticed the small but visible signs that he was, indeed, suffering, I hesitated before glancing back at our group on the lawn as Zexion and Marluxia drew closer, happening to meet Axel's gaze as I did. One look told me that he'd seen the signs as well, so I quietly asked, "Group hug therapy?"

Axel nodded, as did Demyx and Roxas, who apparently had heard my quiet question, as well. And so, before Zexion had any chance to react, we all rushed him (Demyx yelling "SPARTAAA!" all the way), pulling him into one massive T.A.R.D.Z. group hug before he could resist. As an afterthought, I pulled Marluxia into the hug, too, so he wouldn't feel left out. We were quiet for a long moment until, finally, Zexion spoke in a slightly hoarse voice.

"…Thanks, guys."

I smiled. "Any time."

--

A few minutes later found us down at the Co-op Grocery Store browsing through the snack aisle. Seeing as my party had been thrown together so last-minute that no one'd really had time to get me any presents, everyone had agreed that they'd all just pitch in to buy snacks and drinks instead. That was just fine with me. I hadn't even wanted a party to begin with, so I really hadn't given any thought to presents in the first place, anyways. I grinned, grabbing a box of Smores Pop-Tarts and sticking it in the shopping cart that Marluxia had wisely thought to grab. It was already half-full now, and we'd only been in the store for, what? Two minutes, now? I grinned. Wonder if everyone else was shopping on empty stomachs.

I headed for the fruit aisle. I didn't want to completely pig out on junk food. I was going to get me some sweet, sweet grapes. However, on my way to get some yummy grapes, I noticed that John—the store manager, and a long-time friend of my dad's—seemed to have ordered in some strange new fruits again. And, of course, just like last time, when he'd ordered in lychees (which I'd never even _heard_ of before that), my curiosity got the best of me, and I picked one up, examining it as I turned it over in my palm. It was a yellow, star-shaped thing, slightly soft in my hand. I made sure not to squeeze it too hard as I noticed that. The skin was also slightly fuzzy; not as fuzzy as a kiwi, but kind of like a peach. I looked at the price, and quickly wished I hadn't. My eyes bugged.

"Four dollars and seventy-five fricking cents for a fruit that's no bigger than my hand?" I complained quietly to myself. I frowned. "I could get two boxes of Pop-Tarts for that price!"

"Yoink!" The fruit was suddenly plucked out of my hand, and I turned my frown on the completely unaffected Axel, who was studying the object in question. "Huh." He squinted and leaned forward to read the small label on the shelf that said what the strange star-shaped fruits were called. "Poo…pah… no, that's not right… umm, pay-oh-poo fruit…?" He scratched his head.

"You talking about the paopu fruit we just got in?" I turned to see John sticking his head out to grin at us from the back room. "They're pretty rare things. Only grow in tropical climate, y'know," he informed. Well, at least that explained why they were so outrageously priced. Nevertheless, in a small town like Strathmore, he wasn't likely going to sell a whole lot of those fruits for such an expensive amount. So, after a moment of thought, I snatched the paopu back from Axel and headed back to where Marluxia was, in the snack aisle still, and stuck the paopu fruit in the cart on top of all the other snacks and drinks everyone'd put in there. I'd just pay for the fruit myself and eat it myself, I figured, since I knew Dem wasn't usually keen on trying new foods, and I didn't think there was enough fruit there for me to share with all the other four guys.

As we rang our stuff through the till and I grabbed the paopu fruit before the cashier stuck it in a bag, John came up to me and pulled me away from the gang a bit as they started grabbing the bags to carry out. I gave John a puzzled look, and he grinned, albeit a bit sheepishly.

"Seeing as you bought a paopu, I just thought I should tell you the legend—"

I glanced behind me to see that the guys were all headed out of the store without me. I quickly cut John off, knowing it would make me look rude, but not wanting to be left behind. "Sorry, John, but I don't have time for legends right now. Maybe some other time…?" I said, wanting to get out of there fast so I could catch up with the gang quicker.

John looked a bit flustered. "Well, fine then. Just…don't share your paopu with anyone you don't like, or you might regret it," he said, a bit huffily, might I add, before turning on his heel and walking away. I watched him go, confused by his words, but quickly passed it off as nonsense. It probably wasn't anything serious, anyways, even if it did mean something. Besides, why in the world would I share my expensive paopu fruit with someone I didn't even _like_? I mean, honestly! John must be one brick short of a load or something. I shrugged and quickly left to catch up with everyone else, smiling all the way.


	14. Paopu, Parties, and Shadows, Oh My!

**A/N:** Yay, chapter 14! I'm really surprised that I'm still going with this story. Usually I get tired of a story by the fifth chapter... this is definitely a record for me. O.O;; Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far and kept me going on this story! Your reviews are the fuel I need to keep writing. So, please keep up the reviewing, and I will keep up the writing! W00t!

Okay, so the description of the paopu fruit is just what I imagine it to be, not necessarily what it really would be. But then again, it's a fictional fruit. So I just described it as I did because hey, it's from Tor's point of view seeing the fruit for the first time. So she's gotta notice what all of it looks like, and naturally people tend to try and compare things that are new to them to things they know, right? Well, anywho. Just thought I should note (since I forgot to last chapter) that I edited chapter 9 and inserted a bit about Tor's key to the door to her room in the second (I believe?) paragraph. Not a whole lot, but just so you realize it's there. Tor's key is used in this chapter, so just thought I should make note of that.

If there are any spelling/grammatical errors in this chapter, please tell me in a review or message. I'm not sure about some of the grammar in this chapter; sorry, sorry. But I really wanted to get this chapter out on time.

Anyways, please enjoy the chapter!

--

It didn't take long for us all to reach home, and when we did, I quickly made some popcorn and threw some tortilla chips and salsa in some bowls and passed it all out to the guys to snack on while they watched the beginning of Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children. Seeing as I'd already watched the entire movie about half a dozen times (what can I say? It just never seems to get old for me), I was okay with skipping out on the intro in order to taste my interesting-looking paopu fruit. I cut it in half, examining the light golden inside of the fruit before using a spoon to scoop out the soft, seedy middle that kind of reminded me of the middle of a cantaloupe, only on a smaller scale. I wasn't sure if the fuzzy skin on the strange fruit was edible, so I decided to peel it before I ate it, then took a somewhat hesitant nibble at one half of the paopu.

I wasn't sure what I should expect, but it tasted surprisingly delicious. I couldn't really compare the taste to anything I'd eaten before, but it was very sweet and juicy, and had a unique flavour that I instantly took a liking to. I quickly scarfed down the half of the fruit I was holding, then mentally berated myself. I should be savouring it, I thought, because it was so expensive, and even though it tasted really good, I likely wasn't going to ever buy one again. I reached out to grab my other half off the counter, but at the last moment, a hand appeared and snatched it. I whirled around and glared at the wretched thief who _stole_ my fricking _paopu_.

Roxas blinked. "What?" he asked around a mouthful of paopu. I continued glaring and snatched the half of the piece that he _hadn't_ crammed in his mouth from his hand, cutting off the part he'd bitten and shoving the rest of the fruit in my mouth before anyone else had the chance to ninja their way up behind me and snatch it from my hand. Roxas grinned and popped the piece I'd cut off into his mouth. I remembered what John had said about not letting someone I didn't like eat my paopu—weird as it was—but once again quickly brushed it off. It wasn't that I didn't like Roxas, it was just that I didn't like the fact he'd taken my paopu without even at least _asking_ for some first. Usually, it was quite the opposite—apart from Demyx, Roxas was probably my favorite person in our gang, thus being why I'd told him when I'd had to go talk to my mom instead of anyone else, even though I hadn't fully explained the circumstances to him.

Oh, well. I decided it didn't matter after all that Roxas had stolen some of my paopu, since even if what John had said meant something, I liked Roxas (most of the time, at least), so it shouldn't matter, because John had only said not to share my paopu with someone I didn't like. Whatever he meant by that. I shrugged, grabbing some chips and dip and heading into the living room with Roxas close behind. Unfortunately for Roxas, though, it seemed that _someone_ had stolen his spot on the couch. Roxas groaned.

"What?" Uncle Braig huffed indignantly. I smirked and shook my head at him. I always found Uncle B. amusing, because he acted more like a teenager than some teenagers I know do.

Seeing as there was no empty spots on the couch to sit in, I went and sat on the floor beside Zexion—who had Marluxia sitting next to him on his other side—in front of Demyx's legs, as he was sitting on the couch in between Uncle Braig and Axel. Roxas grudgingly came over and sat by me, not even bothering to try and get his spot back from Uncle B. Probably a wise move on his spot. Halfway through the movie, Elaeus showed up and joined us in watching our movie, and a couple minutes later, Uncles Dilan and Luxord joined us, saying that dad was leaving to go do something. Despite my curiosity and slight concern because of his current emotional state, I didn't ask about what it was that he was going to do. I'd learned long ago that if dad wanted me to know something, he'd tell me about it without all the elusive crap.

At about 6:35, the movie ended. I always loved the ending because of the fact that Cloud actually smiles, which you never see him do throughout the entire rest of the movie. I always liked seeing people smile (hey, CG characters count as people, right? I mean, technically they _are_ still people, even though they're not _real_). Especially when it's such a genuine, heartfelt smile as that.

"Who wants food?" Elaeus asked, and I was promptly brought out of my musings about people's smiles as Demyx kneed the back of my head in his clamour to get up off the couch and to Elaeus, who was standing in the kitchen holding two humongous bags of what I assumed he must've brought over for supper.

"Ow, damnit!" I hissed, clutching my now-throbbing head.

"Ah! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry!" Demyx's apologies slurred together as he spoke a mile a minute, his hands fluttering about; I don't think he even knew what to do to make the situation better. Everyone but Dem and I were already in the kitchen, claiming food from the huge bags Elaeus had brought, so I ignored the headache Demyx had given me and dragged him by the wrist into the kitchen so we could get some food, too, before it all disappeared.

--

"Ahhh… thanks for that, El," I thanked Elaeus, patting my full belly after I'd finished supper. Although, most people (including Elaeus) were still eating. Elaeus nodded instead of saying something in return—thankfully, because his mouth was still full at the moment. I'd rather not see any half-chewed food, thank you very much.

_Splat._

Axel looked stunned. Slowly, he raised a hand to touch the mashed potatoes stuck to the side of his face, then swept his gaze over everyone sitting at the table, looking for the culprit. I followed his gaze until it landed on Roxas, who was holding a spoon with mashed potato remains on it and grinning like mad.

"Oh, it's _**on**__!_" Axel said, promptly throwing a handful of fries smothered in ketchup at Roxas, and thus ultimately instigating a horrific food fight the likes of which you've never seen before, with a grand total of six people actively involved. I quickly removed myself from the table, heading for the stairs at the same time Elaeus, Uncle Luxord, and Uncle Dilan got up and headed for the living room, obviously not wanting to be involved in the food fight either. I heard Uncle Luxord saying something about placing bets on who was going to win the fight. However, an extra loud _splat_, followed by a _thud_ and hysterical laughter, made me turn around out of curiosity to see what'd gotten hit. My eyes bugged, as I turned around only to see Uncle Dilan with a huge glob of mashed potatoes stuck in his freakishly large sideburns, and Axel rolling on the floor, howling with laughter. Uncle Dilan slowly turned to look at Axel, eyes glinting with murderous intent.

Oh, dear. I don't want to be present here with the carnage that's about to take place. I quickly high-tailed it out of the kitchen and was at the top of the stairs by the time Axel started yelling, "Uncle! Uncle! I give!!"

Ahh, yes. And _that_, ladies and gentlemen, is what I'm related to. I smirked. If I got a picture of the end result of this little incident, it might prove to be good leverage on Axel for me. Quickly heading to my room to retrieve my digital camera, I immediately went to my vanity upon reaching my room, yanking open one of the side drawers and grabbing the digital camera out of there, then headed for the door once again. My hand gripped the doorknob, and I pulled the door open, about to step over the threshold, but a strange noise—which I can only describe as almost sounding like wing, but somehow not—made me pause and turn to look behind me, where the noise had come from, though my hand never left the doorknob. What I saw nearly gave me a heart attack from fright.

A short, black creature—maybe half my height at best, with what looked like crooked antennae and pupilless yellow eyes—stood, twitching and jerking its head around as though it were taking in its surroundings, in the middle of my room. I had just slid my foot back a bit, deciding it best to try and back out of the room without the dangerous-looking shadow creature noticing, when its head gave one final jerk, and its pupilless, almost heartless-seeming gaze landed on me.

I froze for a moment.

And then it leaped.

My breath caught in my throat, and my mind locked up. The only thing that made me step quickly back and pull the door shut behind me was pure instinct. Adrenaline was pumping through my system from the close call as I hastily pulled the key out of my pocket and locked my door with slightly trembling fingers, trying to hurry so that the strange creature wouldn't be able to make its way out to get at me. I remembered that as it had leapt at me, I had noticed the claws on its hands. I shuddered, tensing when there was a _thump_ against the door that rattled it a bit. However, after that, there was that same sound from before, the sound that was almost like wind but somehow not, and then absolute silence aside from the voices drifting up the stairs from the kitchen downstairs. I wasn't exactly eager to open the door and see what had happened, because that sound seemed like it had been signalling something—perhaps that had been the signal to announce its arrival in my room—but at the same time, I was dying of curiosity, wanting to find out what had happened on the other side of the door. I decided, just a quick peek. I could always slam the door just as fast as I had before if it had meant another creature had joined the first one, right? Right, I decided. So, I hesitantly unlocked the door, cautiously opening it just a crack at first, pausing to listen if there was any more noise, but opening it more upon hearing none.

There was nothing in my room.

I flicked on a light to make sure, but, sure enough, there was nothing in my room. No lone black creature, let alone two. Nothing in my room looked out of place. Shaken, I stepped out of the room in a daze, closing the door behind me once again and leaning against it for support lest I fall down in my state of shock. Had I really just imagined all that? I mean, I knew that I could sometimes have a vivid imagination, but never had I ever imagined something _that real_, especially when I was _awake_. Could I really have imagined something like that? I wasn't sure, but from the way my room had looked exactly as I'd left it before that black creature appeared, how could it have been real? Wouldn't there have been _some_ sign that it had been there? There was no exit from the room except for my single door, as there were no windows and no other doors in it. My head throbbed, and I remembered suddenly that Demyx had kneed me in the back of the head earlier. Right! That must've been why I thought I'd seen that. It couldn't be that I was going crazy. I couldn't see that ever happening. Shrugging, I went back downstairs to see what vengeance Uncle Dilan had wreaked upon Axel, clutching my digital camera tight in my hand.

--

"Ugh. I'll be blowing mashed potatoes out of my nose for a week now," Axel grumbled before turning on me. "And you! I can't believe you'd take advantage of finding me in a weak moment like that!" he said, his eyes accusing. I stuck my tongue out at him, running away as he lunged at me and hiding behind Roxas.

"Just because I took a picture with my digital camera of what my uncle did to you as revenge for hitting him with mashed potatoes as leverage on you and then hid said camera in a lockbox which I will not speak the location of doesn't mean I'm taking advantage of you in a weak moment," I replied, grinning. Axel gnashed his teeth, then turned away with a 'hmpf!', obviously snubbing me. I gasped, then grinned, pulling a dramatic voice.

"Oh, no! Roxas! Axel's snubbed me! Whatever shall I do?" Roxas raised an eyebrow and gave me a weird look, but I winked, silently telling him to play along. "Oh well. As long as I have you, I could care less about Axel," I said in a sultry voice. Axel immediately whipped around to stare at me with wide eyes, mouth agape. I grinned.

Bingo.

His eyes narrowed as he realized what I'd just made him do. "Oh, that was dirty pool," he said sourly.

I shrugged. "I do whatever it takes." I glanced at the clock hanging on the wall over the sink; 7:01 pm. A thought suddenly occurred to me. "Hey, do you guys wanna stay over for a sleepover?" I blurted out without thinking. However, I could've kicked myself after the words escaped. What would dad think of the idea? Of course I already knew he didn't like Axel, though I wasn't sure what his thoughts on Roxas and Marluxia were. He obviously approved of Zexion, though, or else he wouldn't have offered to let Zexion stay with us for a few days while he got his things packed to take to his Aunt Rachelle's and Uncle Even's. And Elaeus was a family friend, though he probably wouldn't want to stay over anyways. And Uncles Luxord, Dilan, and Braig were, quite obviously, family, plus they'd already settled things about staying here. (Well, Uncles Dilan and Braig had, for sure, but I wasn't sure about Uncle Luxord.)

Wait. Was my dad even back yet? I quickly checked with Uncle Luxord, and he confirmed my suspicion that dad had not, in fact, returned yet. A hint of suspicion and worry tinged my mind, but I quickly shoved it aside. This was my birthday. I was supposed to be getting my mind _off _of death, and if I feared what dad might do to himself while he was gone, my mind immediately linked my fear to the fact that he was emotionally unstable because of Amarie's recent murder. I could feel my stomach churning with disgust and my eyes burning with tears of rage and horror as my mind conjured up the all-too-real image of Xehanort shooting Amarie, and then of Amarie's body lying on the bloodstained carpet. I squeezed my eyes shut to try and block the image out, but it was no use; the image was in my mind, and there was no way to get it out.

Two pairs of arms encircled me, and I opened my eyes, the temporary shock banishing the image, to see Axel and Roxas both hugging me. A soft smile tugged at the corners of my lips, and I placed an arm around each of them. I wished I could do more for them, for my friends. There was so much everyone had already done for me, and I didn't know how I could ever possibly even _hope_ to repay them. However, there was one thing that I knew I could do in return for their kindness: open my heart and my home to them. Who cares if dad doesn't like them that much? I can deal with his wrath later, once they're gone. Dad wouldn't dare get angry at me (visibly, at least) when we had guests over, because of his whole "oh look, we're a perfect family, look how perfectly we get along" act he always tried to put on for others. For once, I was surprisingly somewhat grateful for that. I grinned.

"So, did you wanna have that sleepover?" I asked. It would be good to have my friends over, anyways, just in case my mind drifted like that again. Or conjured up an image like that of the black creature from before. I suppressed a shudder at the thought.

Axel pulled back from the hug, Roxas mimicking him after a moment. "Do you really need to ask?" he said, placing a hand on Roxas' head and mussing his blond spikes. Roxas growled. "I'll just go home and pack a bag and be right back." He grabbed the collar of Roxas' shirt and dragged him off towards the porch. "C'mon, Roxy, you gotta pack a bag, too," he said as they disappeared into the porch. I heard a _thump_ and then the front door opening and slamming shut, and then all was silent save for the sound of everyone else chatting in the living room. I quickly headed for the living room to ask Marluxia if he wanted to stay, as well. He shrugged, saying that he had nothing else he had to do, and seeing as Zexion confirmed that he was staying the night with us, he agreed to stay. I grinned. Maybe I'd be able to make a friend of Marluxia yet.

Wait. One question.

"Hey, Uncle Luxord, did dad say when he was going to be back?" I asked. Uncle Dilan kind of scared me, to tell the truth, so I asked Uncle Luxord, seeing as he'd also been there at the time when dad had said he was going somewhere. Uncle Braig had already been in the living room watching Advent Children with the rest of us at that time, so I couldn't ask him.

"Nah, luv. Just said he might be a while, so not to stay up waiting for him," he said. My brow furrowed, but I nodded in acceptance of his reply, then turned a smile to Elaeus.

"So, El, you gonna stay for the sleepover, too? Or are you too old for that?" I teased. He raised an eyebrow.

"Well, I'm not too old for it, but if all you're going to do is ridicule me if I stay, I don't think I want to," he said in a somewhat amused voice. I pulled the best angelic look I could.

"Now, why in the world would I do that?" I said in a sweet tone. Elaeus rolled his eyes at me, but muttered that he would stay if I wanted him to. I grinned in triumph. "Good, because you and I both know that Demyx needs someone to keep an eye on him so he doesn't get into trouble," I joked.

"Hey!"

Demyx's protest just made my grin widen. This was going to be an amusing night.

--

(_Psst! See that little purple button down there? It wants you to click it! ...In other words... REVIEW! (Pretty please!))_


	15. Uncle Braig to the Rescue!

**A/N:** Wow, guys! It's been so freaking long since last I updated this story, and first off, I have to say I AM SOOO SORRY!! I had no idea it would take me this long to update again when I last posted a chapter. But, I made it nice and long (over 3,500 words--8 pages in Word) to try and make up for it. I would've made it longer, but I reeeeally wanted to get it up today. Seeing as I have an exam next week that I have to study for, I couldn't risk putting it off--I'll probably be studying most of next week to try and make up for my current 63% in that class.

Anyways. Aside from that, I am terribly sorry that I have to drop this news after it's taken me so long just to update already, but this story is going to be on semi-hiatus. That pretty much means I'll only be updating a chapter every few months or so, seeing as I've lost a lot of my momentum on writing this story, and I will also be incredibly busy next semester in school (which starts in just a couple weeks from now), what with having Pre-Calculus math and Grade 12 Biology (I'm only in Grade 11), so I'll have much homework and not a lot of time for my story-writing anymore. And when I *do* have time for story-writing, this one will not always be taking priority--I also have another Kingdom Hearts story I'm working on (veeery slowly--only when I have random plot ideas pop into my mind) and two original stories I'm working on (both of which the plots are entirely mapped out already, and I've been doing a lot of research for the one, so far, so that it will be as accurate as possible...it takes place in Mesopotamia, 11th century AD, so seeing as I didn't live through that era, I need as much info on it as possible to make it as believable as I possibly can, even though it's technically a "magical realism" type of story. The other is just modern-day, but it's realistic fiction about an underground civilization that a girl accidentally stumbles upon because of a strange boy she meets at a New Year's Eve festival and befriends, only to find out because of a silly mistake he makes in his speech that he's part of the underground civilization--I'm calling this one "Open Air", and I'll start posting it on fictionpress under my penname "talye05" as soon as I've got the first three chapters written out (/shameless plug)).

Anyways. Enough of me being totally not on topic. Thank you to ALL who reviewed the last chapter--and this chapter is for my friend who kept bugging me to post another chapter, even when I flat-out told her I was too busy to work on it. Thanks for being such a pest (lol, j/k. We both know you're cool).

To answer a couple of questions... does it seem like Tor and Axel kinda sorta like each other? Because... well, that had originally been one of my plot ideas, before I totally scrapped that and remade it. And... well. We shall just have to see what happens with dad, now, won't we? I can't be giving away anything here. ;D

--

The sleepover was…well, interesting, definitely, to say the least. Surprisingly, Zexion wound up being the first person to fall asleep (I'd almost pegged him as the insomniac type), and Axel and Roxas shoved pretzel sticks in his ears and nose. I pitied them, for they were probably going to be the first to face Zexion's ultimate wrath (that I knew of, at least). After some quiet talking between the rest of our "gang" and Marluxia, I decided that the guy was pretty interesting. A bit strange, as far as guys go, but whatever. He liked gardening (Axel just about choked when he mentioned that, but warning glares from both Roxas and I shut him up pretty quick), was a big soccer fan, and enjoyed sewing things, which instantly gave me something to talk with him about. As I'd somewhat suspected, it turned out he knew more about sewing than I did, but I was through thinking I wasn't good enough just because some people were better than me at things, so instead of feeling angry with myself, I just asked him for a few tips on certain things, seeing as Roxas and Axel had grown tired of the current conversation, and Demyx had actually fallen asleep the moment he'd stopped participating in the conversation. Seeing that, I was suddenly aware of just how drained I'd become from the day's events. Yawning loudly, I quickly wriggled down into my sleeping bag between Elaeus, who hadn't talked a whole lot during the rest of our conversation but instead just sat and listened (kind of like a chaperone, I guess), and Roxas, reaching over and mussing the blonde's spikes just to annoy him before bidding everyone goodnight. Everyone else's mumbled "goodnights" greeted my ears as I closed my eyes, and I was quickly pulled down into blissful unconsciousness.

--*--*--

I was suspended in a half-asleep state, hearing people talking but not really understanding what they were saying as I groaned into my pillow. I didn't _want_ to get up yet. However, I was rudely awakened by a sudden weight flopping onto my back, knocking the wind out of me.

"Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey! It's a lovely day in the neighborhood, Tor!" Demyx sang in my ear, quoting Mr. Rogers just because he knew how much I loathed that show.

"UGH." I reached back, trying to whack Demyx but meeting only air as he scrambled up off of me. I flipped over onto my back, propping myself up on my elbows as I glared at him. He was shaking with laughter as he placed a hand over his mouth to stifle it. I frowned. "What?"

"You look—you look hilarious," he said, doubling over with laughter and clutching his stomach. My eye twitched. I probably looked like the spawn of the swamp monster and Medusa. My face grew hot, and I quickly scrambled up and sprinted to and up the stairs to get changed and make myself more… presentable.

Five minutes later, I was dressed in a slightly more form-fitting sweater than usual and the usual tight jeans, my hair and teeth were brushed, I was wearing all my facial jewelry, and I was wide awake. I descended the stairs and headed for the kitchen, where everyone except for Uncle Dilan seemed to be already, to find Zexion rummaging around in our cupboards. I quickly set myself to the task of helping him cook breakfast for everyone, giving him a lopsided smile as I got out the ingredients to make French toast (the only thing that everyone seemed capable of agreeing on for breakfast). It smelled delicious as we cooked it, and I placed the cutlery along with our Aunt Jemima Lite and blueberry syrups on the table as Zexion served up the first batch to everyone. Uncle Dilan finally came down (still wearing his…ahem…_manly_ teddy bear pajamas), looking for all the world like the living dead, nabbed a plate of French toast and one of our back-up bottles of syrup and promptly retreated to the living room to eat, where no one would be able to watch him eat (or, I mused, comment on his choice of PJs). As Zexion started on the second batch of French toast, he shooed me away, telling me to sit down and eat, damn it. I frowned at him, but grabbed a seat between Roxas and Marluxia anyways. However, just as I was sitting down… the doorbell rang.

I suppressed an exasperated sigh, meeting Dem's glance from across the table. I read the silent question in them: Had we been expecting someone else today? I shook my head; no, we hadn't. Nonetheless, I stood back up, motioning for Demyx to sit as he moved to get up as well. No point in both of us going to answer the door, and I hadn't started to eat yet anyways, so I might as well.

"I'll go see who it is," I said for the benefit of everyone who didn't know TDSL (the Tor and Demyx Silent Language).

I padded quietly out to the porch, my bare feet making next to no sound on the carpeted floor. I grasped the doorknob as I reached the door and promptly flung it open. I was not prepared, however, for the sight that greeted me.

Blond hair.

Cold green eyes.

That wicked smirk that I'd become so familiar with over the years.

My eyes narrowed.

"Larxene," I spat acidly. "Never thought you'd have the guts to show your face here after what you did." I glared at her, and her smirk dropped as she matched it with a glare of her own. I could practically feel the electricity crackling in the air between us. When I blinked, her smirk came back.

"Well, originally I'd gone over to Marly dear's house to pick him up for our _date_," she said, trying to rub it in like salt in the wounds. If Sam had been there, she probably would've punched Larxene in the face by now. "But seeing as Mrs. Winters told me he was _here_…well, I just had to come and make sure you weren't making a whore of yourself, deary," she said in that sugary-sweet voice that made me sick to my stomach. My fists clenched by my sides, and I shook with rage at her implications, but I did not attempt to harm her. That would be stooping to _her_ level, after all. I heard growling from… behind me?

"I don't know who you are, but obviously you don't know Tor very well if you actually believe that crap." I turned to find… Roxas? I almost breathed a sigh of relief. At least I wouldn't have to deal with the savage nymph on my own. Roxas glanced at me, flashing me a quick smile before moving to stand beside me, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder as he stared down Larxene in my stead.

I could picture the witch piercing Roxas with daggers from how fierce and sharp her glare was. "Oh?" she cooed, tone of voice contradicting her facial expression. "And what makes you think _you _**do**?" her tone turned hateful.

Roxas glanced at me before quickly looking away again. I resisted the urge to slam the door shut in Larxene's face. She was painfully correct in her insinuation that Roxas didn't know me very well, and both Roxas and I knew this. I almost feared his answer, and tensed slightly under his hand as he began to speak.

"Honestly…? I've only known her for a week." He turned a disgusted look to Larxene. "But I can already tell she's _nothing_ like you make her sound," he spat.

I could see Larxene's fingers twitching, the telltale sign that she wanted to strangle someone at the moment.

Maybe that would teach her not to mess with me. I grinned. "Well, Larxene, I _certainly_ wouldn't want you leaving without talking to your _marvelous_ boyfriend." My smile turned cold. "I certainly didn't think you would still be _dating_ him, even, now that Sam's over him and moved away, even," I said as I stepped aside and she walked past me to get inside, closing the door after her. She turned a scorching glare at me, but said nothing as she removed her shoes, and Roxas and I walked back to the kitchen. I assumed she was following us, but I didn't bother looking back to make sure she was. Her squeal when we reached the kitchen was confirmation enough.

"Honey!" she exclaimed, darting around me to go over to Marluxia as he stood, being very fake and overly…_affectionate_. If you can really call their immediate mackfest "_affectionate_".

"_Ho – ly!_" Axel exclaimed, stressing both syllables. Marluxia at least had the decency to break away from Larxene then.

_Ding-dong._

I sighed aggravatedly. Again!? I massaged my temples. Almost everyone was talking all at once, and more people were arriving at my already-packed house, and I was starting to get a real headache now. Nevertheless, I couldn't just ignore whoever was at the door, however much I wanted to at the moment. I quickly grabbed some Tylenol from the container on the counter and popped two in my mouth, swallowing them without water.

"I'll get it," I grumped, pouting as I set off to the porch to answer the door _again_. And considering who had arrived _last_ time I did that, I wasn't particularly looking forward to seeing who was ringing the doorbell _this_ time. The doorbell rang again as I reached the porch. "Yeah, yeah; I'm coming, I'm coming. Yeesh!" I muttered, opening the door to find a somewhat familiar face. I blinked.

"You're…Zexion's uncle, Even…right?" I asked the stoic blond-haired man before me. I'd met him at the funeral yesterday. He nodded. "Ah. Right then. Come in, please," I said, a bit flustered and at a loss for what to do. Had he come to get Zexion already? I'd thought Zexion be staying with us for another day, at least…but maybe not?

Even entered, slipping his shoes off next to everyone else's. "Rachelle wanted to start getting Zexion moved in with us today," he stated, voice somewhat cold as he confirmed my suspicions.

I deflated a bit. I would miss the bugger. He'd really grown on me in the week we'd known each other. "Right-o, then," I muttered, leading Even back to the kitchen, then to the living room when I found everyone had migrated there from the kitchen. "Zexion, your uncle's here to—"

_Fwoosh._

_Fwoosh._

_Fwoosh._

Oh, hell no. My imagination must be acting up again. Swirling vortexes of darkness appeared, and out of them stepped three of those short, black, twitchy creatures, like the one I'd seen in my room before.

Only this couldn't just be my imagination anymore. Not with the obvious shock written on everyone's faces. The black creatures jerked their heads around, taking in everyone in the room before fixing their beady yellow eyes on…

**Me.**

They all sprang at me in unison. I threw my arms up in front of my face, squeezing my eyes shut in fear. I'm pretty sure I shrieked, too. Even as I did so, a light flashed so bright that I could see the flash from behind my eyelids as I closed my eyes. I waited for the impact to come from the creatures flying at me, but instead I heard a strange, foreign sound.

_Ka-shunk. Ka-shunk. Ka-shunk._

The sound came three times in quick succession, and I opened my eyes, curiosity overriding fear as I lowered my arms as well to see that the three black creatures that had been flying at me lay at my feet, all with the same odd type of arrow sticking out of them. They didn't bleed, but even as I stared at them, they dissipated into black smoky tendrils, then vanished completely, not even the arrows that had killed them remaining to show that they'd been there. I was shocked speechless. I moved my gaze from the spotless floor to everyone else. Almost everyone else was staring at where the creatures had been… except for Uncle Braig. I did a double-take.

What the _hell_ were those things he was holding?

I narrowed my eyes as I inspected the things. They were purple-and-silver…arrow…guns? I wasn't sure quite what to call them. My mind compared them sort of to crossbows, but they were more…interesting-looking. And they shot six arrows each. I tilted my head, raising an eyebrow.

Uncle Braig grinned at me as he saw me eyeing his arrow guns. "Good thing I'm cool, or you dudes'd be in quite the pickle," he chuckled.

"Um. Thanks," I said, feeling a bit awkward over the fact that my uncle had just saved my life, apparently. My mind was whirling with the events that had just occurred, confusion and questions running around in it.

Even's cold gaze flitted around the room, going from one person to the next as though he were silently evaluating each person before speaking. "What were those things?" He seemed more… _upset_ than scared. I didn't know why, though.

Uncle Braig fixed his gaze on Even.

"Heartless. They're creatures of darkness. They steal people's hearts, which in turn makes those people into heartless, who then go out and steal hearts from more people, thus turning _them_ into heartless… etcetera, etcetera. It's just one big, never-ending cycle of damn heartless."

I sucked in a breath through my teeth. Heartless? That was what I had thought of them when I'd seen their unfeeling, beady yellow eyes. The name truly did suit them.

"So…in order to stop this cycle, we'd have to kill off all these heartless?" Uncle Luxord inquired.

Uncle Braig nodded.

I soaked up the information like a sponge. Something told me that all of this information was very important for me to remember. I couldn't help but frown, though. There was just one question that itched at my mind:

"What _are_ those things that you killed them with? And… where did you _get_ them?" I asked, thoroughly confused.

Uncle Braig chuckled. "Trust you to get into a life-or-death situation and be confused instead of going into shock," he said with an amused look on his face. "They're my arrow guns." Aha! So I was right! "And…well, I guess I'll just show you where I got 'em from."

A flash of light pulsed from his weapons, and I squinted from the sudden brightness of it. When the light was gone, so were the guns. And in their place was…

His pendants?

I'd noticed that Uncle Braig had always worn two amethyst pendants before, but I'd only once asked why. He'd told me that they used to belong to his mom and dad, and they'd left them to him when they'd died. I was even more confused now than I was before. Those things turned into fricking _arrow guns?_

Uncle Braig stared at the pendants in his hands for a moment before explaining. "They're the condensed heart power of my—well, _our_—" he said, glancing briefly at Uncle Dilan, "mom and dad. And I value them a lot, so I'm…somehow, I'm not sure how…able to make them turn into my guns." He shrugged. "Maybe everyone can do it with something they treasure. I dunno."

Axel snorted. "Gee, that's _real_ helpful," he mumbled.

Uncle Braig fixed him with a glare. "D'you want to help me with my target practice?"

Axel straightened. "Um. No thanks."

"Then shut up."

"Yessir," he said, crossing his fingers behind his back so only Roxas and I could see. I withheld a snicker.

"So… what happens if those things come back?" Zexion questioned. "We'll need to defend ourselves. So I suppose if we try to summon weapons like Braig has… we'll be able to see who will be capable of fighting them off. Am I correct?"

I nodded, as did Roxas and Uncle Dilan.

"So in that case, we should fetch the things that we… 'treasure'?" Even asked somewhat blandly.

Once again, Uncle Dilan nodded, this time at the same time as Uncle Braig.

Even sighed in aggravation. "Just my luck, living hours away and having to drive all the way there and back again…" he mumbled grouchily before turning to leave. "Don't start without me," he noted sourly before disappearing off to his car.

Axel rolled his eyes. "Come on, Roxas, let's go bag us some memorable items." He glanced over at Zexion and Marluxia. "You guys can get a ride with me if you want, I'm heading in the same general direction as you guys live anyway," he stated with a dismissive wave of his hand.

I glanced over at Larxene, who pouted as Marluxia left with Zexion, Roxas, and Axel to get their stuff. I raised an eyebrow. "Don't _you_ have to go home and get your 'precious item' too, _dear?_" I said, not even bothering to try and hide the sarcasm in my voice as I gave her a clearly fake smile.

She returned the smile. "Oh, no, I never go anywhere without my precious item… or should I say _items_," she said, fishing in the purse she had slung over her shoulder until she procured a set of bobby pins the exact same shade as her shockingly yellow hair.

I raised an eyebrow as I grinned. "Still as vain as ever, eh, Larx?" I said, slipping into my old habit of shortening her name. She frowned, but as she opened her mouth to say something, Elaeus cut her off.

"I'll be right back. I just have to get my stuff," he stated, reaching over to muss my hair before setting off for his house. I scowled, furiously working to smooth my hair again. What is it with people and messing up my 'do?

I turned to Uncles Braig, Dilan, and Luxord, the only people left in the room beside myself, Demyx, and Larxene, and Larxene already had her precious item. "So do you guys have your stuff with you, or…?" I trailed off. It wouldn't be good if they didn't have their precious items with them, seeing as they all lived so far away, and with Uncle Luxord even living on another _continent_, for crying out loud.

They all nodded. I refrained from breathing a sigh of relief, instead turning to Demyx. "C'mon, Dem, let's go 'bag us some memorable items'," I joked, quoting Axel from earlier. We both grinned and raced up the stairs before parting as we headed into our separate rooms. I immediately set to rummaging around in my drawer. Mom's hairbrush… no. I didn't care about her anymore. I threw it in the trash instead of taking it back downstairs. Razorblade… no. I didn't do that anymore. I wrapped it in a wad of tissues and threw it in the trash, too. I did love my over-large sweaters and skinny jeans, but… no. Not that much. I stood in the middle of my room, brow furrowed. What _did_ I care about enough to truly hold it in a special place in my heart?

An idea popped into my head.

I grinned, pulling my room key out of my pocket. I studied the simple silver key for a moment before deciding that, yes, it was precious to me. I valued my privacy a lot, and this key was as good a symbol as any of that. I wondered vaguely if I would get a cool-looking weapon like my Uncle Braig, or even more than one, but quickly shoved the idea aside. After all, we weren't even sure if I would get a weapon at all; it might even be that only Uncle Braig is capable of summoning a weapon. We didn't know for sure, we were just trying out his theory to see if there would be more than one person capable of fighting off those wretched heartless. I smiled as I ran down the stairs, taking two at a time. Which isn't smart. I mean, really. Knowing how utterly "_graceful_" I am, I'll probably trip and fall flat on my face one of these days from doing that…

Reaching the bottom of the stairs in (thankfully) one piece, miraculously enough without tripping over air or my own feet, I quickly ducked into the living room, where only Uncle Braig and Larxene now remained, seeing as everyone else had vacated the premises to find their precious belongings. It seemed as though an eternity passed before people started coming back, items in tow. I bit my lip out of nervous habit.

I really hoped this was going to work.

Because if it didn't, then who knew… we were probably doomed.

Doomed to death… by the heartless' hands.


End file.
